No Way Out
by ElvesAreEpic
Summary: Mirkwood is in a panic. Their only prince is missing, presumed dead, and they are losing hope. As time runs short for Legolas, Aragorn is determined to do anything to find his friend, even if that means enlisting the aid of the unsuspecting assassin who did the crime.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry that this one was so long in coming. Life hit me like a freight train but from now on you should be getting weekly updates! I hope you enjoy and have fun reading! **

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

**No Way Out**

Chapter One

Aragorn slammed two tankards down on the table, spraying droplets of ale across the rough wooden surface. Throwing himself into the chair, he stared across at a slim, finely dressed man. The man looked up, arching an eyebrow.

"Names Darrion," Aragorn announced, holding out his hand for the man to take.

The man went back to studying the map spread out in front of him. "Not interested."

"You will be." Aragorn leaned forward, pushing one of the tankards closer to the man. "I have a proposition for you that you will not want to turn down."

"Go away." This time the man did not even bother to look up, though he did wrap his hand around the mug. Aragorn inched his chair closer, looking around them. Bending low, he whispered.

"I _know_ exactly who you are. I _know_ what you do."

"Congratulations, Darrion, you can recognize a wandering peddler apart from a farmer. Now, unless you are interested in buying a fist in your face, I suggest you move along." His voice was cold and humorless but Aragorn chuckled.

"I am interested in buying something," Pausing once again, he glanced around them. The rest of the inn was bustling and busy. Loud laughter echoed back to them from the corner where a large gaggle of men and women were gathered. A weary, old, farmer was talking to anyone that would listen about next year's doomed harvest and a musician was playing a lively tune on his harp. Leaning in, Aragorn smiled grimly. "I am interested in buying a life."

The man froze with the tankard halfway to his lips. "I'm sorry, I am not Mandos."

"Don't insult me. You know exactly what I speak of." Aragorn took a large gulp of his drink, never breaking eye contact. "Your name is Alton and you are more in the business of wandering assassin than a wandering peddler."

Alton cocked an eyebrow before his lips pushed upwards into a thin smile. Folding the map, he stuffed it away into the inside pocket of his jacket. "You'll forgive my caution, Darrion. One can't be too careful." Aragorn nodded, watching as Alton turned to fully face him. Both men were silent as Alton eyed Aragorn critically.

"You don't dress like a man from Laketown or any of the other surrounding villages. What is a man who lives up north over the Misty Mountains doing here?"

"I've been searching for you," Aragorn admitted with a shrug. "Your fame as an assassin has grown even to those forsaken lands and I have a bit of a, well—situation—back at home."

Before he could continue, Alton raised a hand. "Before you go any further on some long, outlandish, and horribly boring backstory, let me inform you that I have a price and it is not cheap."

Reaching into his coat's pocket, Aragorn pulled a bursting pouch out and dropped it onto the table. The heavy thud and gentle clinking sparked a light in Alton's eyes. Picking it up carefully, he weighed it with one hand and raised an eyebrow.

He opened his mouth but Aragorn cut him off. "That's only half. The rest comes after you finish the job."

Alton's thin lips twisted upwards once more. "I would have accepted just this which makes me wonder. Who, exactly, do you want dead?"

Aragorn paused, biting at his lower lip. "As you so clearly stated I come from across the Misty Mountains. I run a—" he laughed a little, shaking his head, "less than honest business that the elven Lord up there, Elrond, is starting to take a personal interest in. I need you to kill the elf before he destroys everything I've ever worked for."

Alton stared at him for a second, his eyes growing wide. "You're not serious, are you?" he scoffed, draining the rest of his beer in one gulp. "First off, very few people even know how to find the hidden valley where Elrond Half-elven dwells and seconds, this is _Elrond Half-elven_ we are talking about. If half the stories are true then he has survived kin-slayings, wars, the Battle of the Last Alliance and who-knows-what-else. He would see it coming a mile away, it's impossible!"

"Is it?" Aragorn paused, snapping his fingers at the passing barmaid, and waited until she had refilled both of their mugs before continuing. "Rumor in town is that Mirkwood's Prince—"

"That wasn't me. I just happened to be here. The wood elves caught whoever it was. A local young man, I think."

Aragorn bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood and took a deep breath. _Later, the time would come later._ "What if I knew someone who could lure Elrond out into the open? All it takes is one well-placed arrow and even an elf would die." Aragorn edged forward, gripping Alton's forearm tightly. "Look at me, I'm desperate! I've traveled all this way and I'm willing to pay any price you name. You _must_ help me."

Alton did not respond for several long minutes as he stared into the depths of his ale. "I would need more gold then what we are promising me. Add another bag and I'll do your dirty work."

Aragorn nodded without hesitation, sinking back into his seat. "Thank you, you won't—"

Alton cut him off briskly. "Oh, and I will need Elrond alone. You have to get him out there with no one else, do you understand?"

Aragorn's smile faltered. "That will not be easy. Elves often travel together and his sons or other famed warriors usual accompany him. Why do you need him alone?"

Alton chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. "I just do. Can you get him alone?"

Aragorn paused, lightly tracing the rim of his mug, and then nodded. "Out of curiosity, how do you plan to kill him?" he asked, but Alton only drained his drink and stood.

"He will be taken care of, that is all that matters. I assume that you want to leave as soon as possible? I can be ready in the morning. There isn't anything in this small, damp, rat-hole of a town anyway," he sneered, gathering up his cloak. Thrusting out his hand, he briefly shook Aragorn's before heading up the stairs and towards his rooms.

Aragorn remained seated, nursing his ale, for several long minutes. Once he was sure that Alton would not be coming back down the stairs, he retreated to a table in the corner that was submerged in shadows.

"He's going to do it," he said wearily, dropping into one of the chairs. The woman already sitting there bowed her head in relief, clutching her glass closer to her.

"Thank you, thank you for doing this," she whispered, her hands trembling as she raised the cup to her lips before brushing at a wayward strand of frizzy hair. Aragorn's eyebrows came together and his eyes went hard.

"Oh, trust me, Delilah, I'm not doing this just for you. He killed my friend and I'm not going to stop till I see justice served." Knocking back the rest of his drink, he tightened his hands around the mug to stop the sudden trembling in his fingers.

Delilah nodded, rocking a little where she sat. "You have to know, my brother would never have betrayed one of Thranduil's folks. He loved it when the elves would visit and he would talk with the ones that were willing late into the night. You _have _to understand that." Tears sparkled in her eyes and she forced herself to take a steadying breath. "Prince Legolas was never too high or mighty to talk to him—we didn't even know that he was the prince for the longest time. My brother _never_ would have betrayed the Prince."

"I believe you, but it did look…strange," Aragorn sighed, leaning forward on his elbows and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. "He was the last one to see Legolas before he disappeared in-between Mirkwood and Laketown." He paused, thinking back to his hurried conversation with Thranduil only a few days prior. Someone, (Alton, if he had to take a guess) had left a convincing trail of evidence that led from where Legolas had disappeared to the southern borders of the great forest. They had lost the trail just before it entered spider territory.

The master of Laketown had panicked, fearing open war, and had turned over the first person that was linked to the evidence; Delilah's brother. In terror, Delilah and taken the streets, pleading and begging to any elf she saw that her brother was innocent. At long last, one of Legolas' close friends had listened to her plight. Unsure of what to do and unfamiliar with human ways, he had sent for the only human he trusted; Aragorn.

Aragorn doubted that he would ever forget the stark terror that had filled his heart as he had read the hurriedly scribbled note that Legolas was missing, presumed dead. Fleeing Imladris less than an hour later, he had made the trip to Mirkwood in record time, not that it mattered. It had been a fortnight since the prince had gone missing and there was nothing that he could do that hadn't already being done.

With little hope, he had made his way to Lake-town. For the first time since the tragedy had occurred, Lady Mercy smiled down upon him as Aragorn tried to locate Delilah to hear her side of the story. Standing in the shadows of a doorway a vaguely familiar voice had struck up a conversation with a beautiful young woman. Turning, he watched in disgust as the man leered over the girl who could only be just entering womanhood. Unable to place the voice or the face, Aragorn had followed him for several hours until suddenly it clicked. The man was Alton, a famed assassin.

Aragorn had tried to find Alton once, years prior, when the main village leader in a town just north of Bree had gone missing. He had never caught him, though he had come close, and while doing so he had learned much about the man. The man had a unique trademark. Traveling from town to town as a wandering peddler, he would wait until his victims were alone before making any move.

They were never seen again as Alton vanished with his victim in hand to the Misty Mountains and, if the rumor was to be believed, they were left to a cruel, twisted, fate. Some said he left them shackled in a forgotten valley were they starved to death. Others said that he tortured them slowly, draining their blood drop by drop till their hearts stopped beating. The list went on but the truth was that no one knew. None of his victims had ever lived to tell the tales and their bodies had never been discovered.

Sighing, Aragorn resurfaced from his thoughts and reached out, patting her hand. "We will have your brother out of Thranduil's dungeons before long and Alton will take his place."

Delilah nodded listlessly and Aragorn squeezed her hand. She turned to look at him. "Aren't you afraid, though? You are putting your own friends in danger based solely off of the hope that he will lead you to the prince."

Aragorn shrugged. "Alton won't be prepared for that. Besides, if all goes to plan, I may be able to convince him to take me to his killing site before I get anyone else involved." She nodded even as her hands continued to twist together in her lap.

They sat together in silence and Aragorn leaned forward once again burying his face in his hands. The light of the dying fire painted the harsh lines of his shadow on the wall and illuminated his haggard look. A little while later, the Delilah staggered to her feet and walked in a daze out the inn's door. Aragorn blinked rapidly to clear his vision as he turned his head, guaranteeing her safe passage out into the warm summer night.

Taking a steadying breath, Aragorn rubbed wearily at his forehead in an attempt to ward off the headache that was already firmly in place.

He didn't have to be told that, on the slim chance that he was able to convince Alton to lead him to Legolas, that he would only find a dead body. The mere fact that Alton was back in town was enough to know that he had finished whatever games he had been playing with the prince. Only the thought that he would be bringing Legolas' killer to justice brought a sliver of comfort to his aching heart.

"More ale, sir?" A cheery young maid startled him and he looked around. She had her hand out to take his mug but he shook his head. It was still half full.

"That will be all, thanks," he muttered, clearing his throat roughly. Something must have shown on his face and her smile faltered. Reaching out, she gave his shoulder a firm squeeze before moving on to serve a group of tipsy men.

Aragorn dropped his head back into his hands and forced himself to take several slow and steady breaths. When he raised his head again, his eyes were bright and firm. Alton would not get away with it, not this time.

Draining his mug, he threw a few coins onto the table and headed for his own room.

NoWayOut

_Legolas leaned against the door, staring out over a wide balcony and into the brightly lit forest. His left arm was wrapped gently in a soft sling and he unconsciously rubbed at the dull ache that was deep in his shoulder. His hair, free of their braids, danced behind him in the fresh breeze that smelled…he couldn't quite decipher what it smelled like, something almost salty. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed into its gentle caress. _

_Something fluttered from inside the room and he turned to look. An orange butterfly drifted lazily in the faint breeze, before fluttering down to land on a painting of a delicate purple flower. _

_Legolas frowned. The scene looked familiar for some reason and he tilted his head, trying to understand. Unable to shake the feeling that this was important, he moved closer. The butterfly froze, melting into the painting until it was simply part of it. Reaching out, he hesitated briefly, before letting his fingers scraped against the dried paint. _

"_Haven't you heard that it is unwise to touch paintings as old as that one?" His father's voice sounded from the door and Legolas jumped. Thranduil hadn't knocked._

_He always knocked. _

_Tilting his head to the side, Legolas stared at his father for a minute before smiling. "I seem to remember someone telling me that maybe a thousand times when I was an elfling." _

_Thranduil's grin split his face in two and his eyes twinkled as they had before his wife had died. "You didn't listen then and I doubt you will listen now."_

"_I don't know. I am a little older, a little wiser." Legolas walked towards the door that Thranduil was holding open. "Where are we going?"_

"_Just follow me, I have something that I want to show you," Thranduil smiled again, looping an arm around his son's shoulders. "And if I told you, then it would ruin the surprise." Legolas glanced around at the hallway in confusion. This wasn't his home, but the corridor looked achingly familiar. _

_Thranduil pulled him closer as they walked. _

_The long hallway stretched on for as far as the eye could see and they continued on endlessly until Legolas' legs had a healthy ache in them. The pain in his shoulder was now a throbbing agony that had spread all along his left side and up to his neck. _

"_Ada…" he stopped short as the pain spiked and he cried out, clamping a hand to his neck. "Ada, something isn't—" Legolas broke off, startled into silence as he looked into his father's face. Thranduil was leering at him, his lips bared to reveal long, pointed, teeth. _

_Blinking, Legolas watched as his father's features slid back into a concerned expression. _

"_Come, Legolas. You must follow me."_

_Legolas shook his head, his hand still pressed against the fiery pain in his neck and shoulder. His breath was coming in sharp gasps as he looked around him. The hallway had gone fuzzy and he blinked, trying to bring it back into focus. _

"_Legolas!" Thranduil's voice had gone sharp. Legolas spun around, instinctively moving into a protective stance. Thranduil scowled. "I told you to come along and I expect you to listen."_

_Legolas hesitated, his heart screaming at him to turn and run. A cold burst of air that carried the foul stink of something long decayed rushed up to meet him. He froze, unable to get his legs to move. _

"_Ada, _what_ is down there?" Legolas' voice rose in pitch as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to move back but his legs would not work. Pain tore through his body and he felt all the strength leaving his limbs. Sinking slowly to his knees, he gazed up at his father through tears sparked by the pain. _

"_Legolas?" Just as quickly as the anger had come, it was gone and his father sounded concerned. "You don't look well. Are you—" Thranduil's face wavered and Legolas thrust out a hand for support as his body wilted towards the ground. Blinking feverously, he stared with horror and confusion as his father's face flickered between the features that he knew so well and those of a wide-mouthed monster. _

"_Ada—"_

_He clasped onto the ground, watching as his father knelt next to him. Only, it wasn't his father. Rotting skin was stretched tight across a bony face and where there should have been eyes there were only two gaping holes. The monster opened its mouth and a long tongue flicked out between rows of razor-sharp teeth. A long, soft _hiss _followed and a wicked odor filled the air. Legolas remained locked in place as fear overwhelmed him. Before he even had the chance to cry out, agony surged throughout his body and everything went black._

TBC...

**Well, folks, there is the first chapter. Feel free to leave a review on the way out and tell me what you thought! Thanks so much for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hey folks! Things get moving a little in this chapter so I hope to enjoy! Oh, and last week I failed to mention my thanks and appreciation to my beta reader, Cuthalion97. **

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

Chapter Two

_Legolas started as Aragorn clapped a hand on his shoulder and he turned._

"_Quite the sight, isn't it?" Aragorn asked, grinning broadly. He had been laying on his side but sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest. They were sitting in the middle of a lively meadow. Bugs were buzzing, the birds were chirping and near a large birch tree a deer was chomping merrily away on the grass. _

_Legolas smiled hesitantly, his brain scrambling to keep up with the turn of events. Had he not just been talking to his father and then—then what? "It is beautiful," he replied__ automatically. __Frowning, he reached out and touched Aragorn's arm to gain his attention. _

"_Where is my father?" _

"_At home in Mirkwood, where else?" Aragorn asked, lazily swatting a buzzing __f__ly away from his face. _

_Legolas' face darkened as he glanced around at the perfect meadow. This wasn't right. He _had _just been with his father. They had been going somewhere— nowhere in Mirkwood nor in Imladris—no, it had been somewhere dark. Trying to get a grip on his jumbled thoughts, Legolas turned back to Aragorn, rubbing absent-mindedly at the dull ache in his shoulder. _

"_You might think me an idiot, but I cannot place where we are at…?" Legolas trailed off, looking expectantly at Aragorn. _

_Aragorn chortled, throwing Legolas a long look. "Stop acting so strange," he rebuked, giving the elf a small shove. Legolas found nothing amusing in this conversation and he glared at the deer. It flicked its ears in contentment. _

_Aragorn suddenly leaped to his feet. "Come, I have something that I need to show you. It's just a little ways pass the meadow." His eyes were shining with excitement and his lips__ tilted __upwards in a suppressed grin. _

"_Where are we going?" Legolas hunched over, wrapping his arms around himself. Aragorn extended a hand, still smiling. _

"_Trust me, Legolas."_

_The words hung heavily in the air __and at last Legolas heaved a sigh. "Oh, alright," he grumbled, allowing Aragorn to pull him to his feet. _

_An orange butterfly fluttered past Aragorn and skimmed the branch of an aspen tree. Its bright colors caught the elf's attention and he jerked to a sudden halt, memorized. Leisurely, the creature drifted down to land on a simple purple flower. _

_Abruptly, __Legolas __was no longer standing in the bright, sunshine-filled meadow, but rather in the gloomy shadows of the Great Forest that __bordered__ Lake-town and Mirkwood. _

"_Come on!" As swiftly as the vision came, it dissipated and Legolas was once again standing in the warmth of the sun. Lurching back, Legolas looked widely around. _

"_What—?"_

_Aragorn was standing in front of him, a fresh look of annoyance on his face.__ "Come _along_, Legolas!" Grabbing his arm, Aragorn pulled the protesting prince forward._

_Much __to the elf's __surprise, Aragorn continued to lead him deeper into the forest. The question of where they were going was on the tip of his tongue when they broke through the trees and found themselves at the bottom of a small cliff. There was a gaping cavern in the rock. Aragorn turned, smiled, and walked into the looming entrance of the cave. Legolas balked, firmly planting his feet as a chill went up to his spine. The man strode back out a second later, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. _

_Legolas shifted, folding __his arms tightly __over his chest. "That cave, __it __doesn't feel right. And it's…it's a cave, Aragorn. There is no reason to be excited about a cave. You know—" he cleared his throat, looking away. "You know I don't like them."_

"_But this isn't a normal cave!" Aragorn insisted, throwing the elf a pleading look. "Besides, you never know, one day you might just find a cave you enjoy."_

"_Ha, that will be a day that a dwarf __willingly leads __me in," Legolas snapped, turning his nose up into the air. Aragorn cursed him under his breath. _

"_Dwarfs aren't that bad." _

_Legolas only sniffed. _

_Aragorn mumbled something under __his breath __about the pride of elves before once again grabbing his arm. "Stop being an idiot and I promise that nothing will happen. It's just a cave!" _

_Legolas sighed, twisting his head as__ a sudden throb went through his left side. Rubbing at it, he backed up a step. He didn't know why, but he knew that he wasn't going to enter that cave._

_Aragorn's face scrunched up as his eyes darkened in anger. When he spoke, there was a sudden sharpness in his voice. "You will come." _

"_No." The first dregs of panic spiked in Legolas' heart. Whirling around, he only made it a few steps before Aragorn snatched__ his arm in__ a vice-like grip. _

"_Let go of me!" Legolas snapped. Aragorn smiled grimly as the flesh around his face began to crack and peel apart. Terror surged through Legolas' brain and warning bells went off with a deafening clamor. Aragorn advanced aggressively but Legolas' couldn't move. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the __man's pointed __teeth. _

NO*WAY*OUT

The sun hadn't risen yet when Aragorn crept down the stairs. The main room was still and silent. The only evidence of last night's boisterous events was a few empty tankards and the occasional scattering of crumbs. Easing through the front door, he shivered in the cool, morning air. He could see no sign of Alton.

A rooster strutted past him, ruffling its feathers, and Aragorn leaned against the wall. Resigning himself to waiting in the dim, early morning light, he pulled his pipe free from an inside pocket.

Just as the sun was starting to peak up over the rooftops, Alton slid through the doors with a yawn wide enough to swallow a frog.

"Do you have a horse?" Aragorn asked, jerking his head in the direction of the stable. Alton jumped, his eyes growing wide.

"Don't leap out of the shadows like that!" he scolded loudly. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out angrily before heading towards the stables. As they saddled their horses, Aragorn couldn't resist a smile as his mare let out a soft nicker and dug her velvety nose into his shoulder.

Alton stopped, staring at the horse with his head cocked to the side. "That's a majestic animal. Where did you get it?"

Aragorn rubbed her ears and patted her thick neck lovingly. In one smooth motion, he swung himself onto her back. "Straight from Elrond's stables," he said with as much of a smirk as he could muster. Alton's mouth dropped open.

"No wonder you want the elf-lord dead. I've heard that elven folk don't take lightly to people stealing their possessions." He clambered atop his own chubby horse and followed Aragorn's lead out of the stables.

"They don't," Aragorn agreed, giving the man a sideways look as they cantered down the dirt road. "Have you met many elves?"

Alton shrugged. "I've met a few here and there. I mean, I've never been invited into one of their homes. Closed folk, they are."

Aragorn didn't disagree and they rode in silence to the edge of town. Aragorn kept sending sideways glances at Alton as he mulled carefully over what to say next. Once they started up the narrow path that would lead towards the mountain, Aragorn decided to risk it.

"The villagers were saying that this was where the elf prince disappeared, is that true?"

Alton laughed. "I told you last night, I had nothing to do with that. Besides, this is nowhere near to where the prince was said to disappear. That was off near Mirkwood which, for your information, is south of here." He lips twisted upwards into an odd little smile and Aragorn snorted in annoyance.

"Your mark was all over that, Alton," he confronted.

"Was it?" Alton said evenly, raising an eyebrow. Spurring his horse forward, he took the lead. Glowering at the assassin's back, the ranger kicked his mare into a faster gait and risked no further questions.

They traveled the rest of the day in mute silence, pushing the horses to a lively pace. At long last, when they could no longer see the trees clearly, Alton called a halt.

"There is no reason to rush, is there? I, for one, do not wish to travel through the night as this mountain is home to more than one monster. And besides, the worst thing that could happen is Elrond dying before we get there." Chortling at his own joke, he threw himself down on his bedroll. Aragorn didn't reply as he tossed down an armful of firewood that he had collected and began to build up a blaze. It was only when he was sitting down with this pipe and Alton was half asleep that Aragorn answered.

"I have to get back to my people, I have been away too long as it is." Aragorn took a deep inhale of smoke and let it through his teeth. He allowed himself a small grin as Alton jerked awake. Staring at Aragorn in momentary confusion, the assassin dug a rock out from behind his back.

"More likely you have to get back to your 'oh so legal' business. Do you not trust your people to do their job right?" He didn't give Aragorn a chance to reply before continuing. "What exactly is it that you do anyway?" Rolling over onto his side, he propped his head upon his hand and gave Aragorn a hard look. The ranger shrugged.

"You don't give away your secrets and I don't give away mine."

"What do you mean, 'my secrets'? You apparently know my style, what I do, and even where to find me."

Aragon finally allowed his anger to creep into his voice. "You lied to me earlier. You said you didn't kill that elven prince." Tapping the ashes out of his pipe, he leaned back against the rock. "I wouldn't have cared if you told me it was none of my business, but I don't like a lair."

"A lair? That's what is annoying you? For Valar's sake, you're a thief and I'm an assassin. It is not like either of us are saints." Alton spat into the dirt.

"I never lie to a business partner." Aragorn pointed out and Alton snorted and scrunched up his face.

"I never lie to a partner," he mocked in a high voice. Aragorn sent a livid glare his direction and Alton rolled back over with a huff. Aragorn glowered, angrily sucking on his pipe with one hand clenched around the handle of his knife. He wanted to bury his knife in Alton and then demand answers on where Legolas' final resting place was. Taking a deep breath, he remained himself that Alton would more than likely only lead him on a wild goose chase if he showed his hand now.

Alton fidgeted, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. At last, he sat up straight, turning to face Aragorn with an evil gleam in his eye.

"I did it."

"Did what?" Aragorn turned to look at him, his hand seizing around the stem of his pipe.

"I killed the prince."

"Well, hooray for you." Aragorn looked away and his eyes latched onto the bright stars overhead. The same stars that Legolas had loved so much. Bringing his knees closer to his chest, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I killed him horribly, just like I kill all my victims."

There was such glee in his words that Aragorn felt his stomach churn and he tried hard not to picture Legolas being stabbed to death in a dark crevice. "You don't kill your victims right away. You leave them alone with nothing to save them, or so the rumors go."

"That is because no one has lived to tell the tale." Alton puffed out his chest proudly and Aragorn scoffed.

"So I have been told. I did my research, don't forget."

"So you have..." Alton fell silent and when Aragorn dared to turn and look at him he had rolled over onto his back. The moon drifted higher in the sky and Alton's breathing slowed, deepening as he slid into a heavy sleep. Aragorn stayed where he was at, his own bedroll rolled up in his pack.

As night waxed strong, Aragorn found himself praying for morning to come. Even though he didn't sleep it was if he was caught in a constant nightmare. His imagination had taken flight and scenario after scenario of what could have happened had been burned into his brain. Legolas tied to a tree, close to death. Legolas' body broken at the bottom of a cliff. Legolas lying face down in a lake. A starving Legolas whose skin was already starting to decay. Legolas dying of thirst. Legolas being devoured by wild animals.

The last thought left him short of breath and Aragorn clenched his knife until he could no longer feel his fingers. Alton would pay for his crime, Aragorn would see to it. He was not going to let Legolas go unavenged but he needed to bid his time.

Standing, he began to pace around the small campsite, formulating plans to ask Alton to show him where he had hidden the body. With each new idea or thought his steps became heavier, growing more aggressive until he was stomping back and forth, fuming. He would make Alton prove that he had killed Legolas, say he didn't believe that had done it, and then force him to take him there. He would bring Legolas home, whatever the cost.

Legolas would have done it for him, after all.

As soon as morning's first light peeked in through the trees, Aragorn roughly shook awake a disgruntled Alton.

"We should have been off an hour ago," he snapped irritably as he finished saddling his horse. Legolas unconscious and beaten to death flashed before his eyes and his hands trembled as they cinched the saddled into place.

Alton was shivering, huddled next to the dead fire as he tried to gain any last spark of warmth. "Oh, whatever," he fired back, strapping his sword around his waist and shuffling towards his horse. "The sun hasn't fully risen yet."

"What are you talking about? It's light enough to see," Aragorn growled under his breath. Alton sent a livid glare his direction as he swung stiffly atop his horse but Aragorn paid it no heed as he nudged his horse forward.

By mid-morning, they had reached the first hills of the Misty Mountains and began the winding climb towards the peaks. Aragorn tried asking to see the body, but Alton denied it vehemently and would not talk unless spoken too. The uncomfortably warm day did nothing for their moods and by evening both were sweaty, grumpy and frustrated.

As the sun once again began its gradual descent, Alton spoke. "There is a cave that I know of up ahead. It is a little ways off the path but it will provide shelter for the night," he paused his lip curling upwards mockingly. "That way, you won't have to stay up and keep watch."

Aragorn snorted and resisted the urge to ask Alton if he was going to sacrifice his sleep to keep watch. All the same, he slowed his mare until Alton had passed him by and took the lead. After that, Alton grew positively cheerful and Aragorn felt an uncertain dread descend over him. Uncertainty, he rested a hand lightly on the sun-warmed handle of his sword.

Alton guided Aragorn along a winding path through the trees for over an hour. A normal man would have been lost after the twisting turns that they took through the sea of trees, but Aragorn was anything but normal. He knew perfectly well that Alton was attempting to lead him in circles and the apprehensive in his chest grew.

The moment that Alton led him into a small clearing, Aragorn felt his stomach drop as an icy surge of darkness and fear swamped him. Outwardly, the small cave that rested at the base of a tall cliff was perfect. The hole was not large enough to fit any bears or other such large predators and the trees around it created a perfect cover as well as firewood. Normally, Aragorn would have been excited to find such a cave but this one—this one reeked of evil.

Pulling his horse to an abrupt stop, Aragorn stared at Alton's narrow back. This was all wrong, none of them should be here. Even the horses could sense the radiating evil as both his mare and Alton's let out increasingly nervous nickers. Aragorn's mare pranced back, snorting and tossing her mighty head in warning. Patting her neck firmly, Aragorn forced her forward so that he could keep Alton in his sight.

Alton reached the base of the cliff and dismounted. His horse's ears were flicking back and forth in an obvious state of agitation but the man paid it no heed. Looping the reigns around the branches of a tree, he tied them into a firm knot.

"The horses should be safe to spend the night out here," Alton said breezily as he dusted off his pants. Aragorn dismounted slowly, his eyes never leaving Alton. He looped his reigns around the saddle horn and let them dangle there.

"Your horse is going to run off, and I am _not_ letting you ride behind me," Alton called over his shoulder as he swung his pack off his horse.

"This is an elven horse," Aragorn dismissed quietly. Alton shrugged, looking completely at ease as he strode forward and bent down to glance into the cave.

"Don't worry, it's a lot roomier on the inside!" he called, popping his head back out before lowering himself onto all fours and crawling inside the dark opening. The icy feeling of evil was strong enough that Aragon could taste it and his stomach did several flip-flops as he edged closer. All his senses were screaming at him to run as far away as his horse would carry him and not look back—but what if Legolas was down there?

Taking a calming breath, Aragorn dove forward and entered the cave at a rapid crawl until he was right on Alton's heels. The rocky walls of the cave sloped close together, hindering his movements. All the same, Aragorn slipped his small boot knife free, clutching it in his fist. If he was Alton, then he would attack in the precious few seconds that he would be able to stand straight while Aragorn was still on his knees.

The slim passageway opened up abruptly and Aragorn watched as Alton surged upright and bent down scooping up what appeared to be a large rock. Lunging forward, Aragorn staggered upright just as Alton swung the makeshift weapon towards him. Throwing up his arm, Aragorn grunted as the rock connected painfully with his forearm. Thrusting his other hand out, he latched onto Alton's wrist and squeezed until the rock tumbled free.

Alton cursed as Aragorn's grip increased and rammed his free fist into Aragorn's ribs. It was a poorly timed hit and Aragorn drove him forward, shoving him against the nearest wall. Alton reeled, but swung his fist once again, aiming for Aragorn's head. Aragorn ducked, retaliating with a fist of his own. Alton's head snapped back, striking against the rocks with a sickening crack. Snatching Alton's other wrist, Aragorn spun the stunned assassin around and pinned him up against the wall.

"Stop moving!" he demanded as Alton squirmed, a muffled groan leaving his throat as Aragorn shoved his face further into the stone wall. "Why did you just try and attack me?" Alton twisted and Aragorn tightened his grip, tucking a hand into his hair. "Tell me!"

Alton began to giggle and Aragorn ground his face in harder against the rough stone. "I don't know who you really are, but you might want to let me go." Alton's voice came out muffled but it was Aragorn's turn to laugh.

"You just tried to kill me—and you want me to let you go. Now speak and don't make me ask again."

Alton let out a snickering snort. "I'm an assassin! What else did you expect? But really, you should let me go. It is coming."

Aragorn paused, noticing for the first time how cold it was. His breath frosted in the air, sending up small puffs of smoke around him. This wasn't right. They needed leave. Grabbing Alton by the scruff of his neck, Aragorn dragged him towards the entrance of the cave.

Alton cackled, dragging his heels in the dirt. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Move—your—legs, you idiot!" Aragorn snared as the temperature of the cave continued to drop. His heart began to beat widely in his chest and fear made his movements jerky as he tried to wrestle Alton to the opening. A strange, keening, note echoed up from somewhere behind him and Aragorn felt panic wrap its fingers around his heart.

Glancing back, Aragorn got his first real look at the cave. It was larger than he had expected as it stretched far back into the mountainside before tapering down to one narrow hallway. Down that narrow hallway, he could see a flicker of white. Something was coming, something that Aragon did not want to meet.

"MOVE!"

Alton refused to do so. Laughing, he wrenched back and shoved his elbow roughly into Aragorn's chest. Aragorn grunted at the sharp pain and stumbled back a step.

"Don't make me knock sense into you!' Aragorn hissed as he grappled with Alton, struggling to pull him towards the entrance. Alton jammed his elbow back again and wrenched himself free. Swinging wildly, his fist connected sharply with the side of Aragorn's jaw. The ranger stumbled back, blinking stars from his vision. Alton limped towards him, a glinting knife in his fist.

Cursing, Aragorn ducked the first jab and spun around, catching Alton by his wrist and snapping it down. Fluidly, Alton dropped the knife and caught it seamlessly in his other hand. A breathy hiss filled the cavern and Aragorn whirled around.

At the back of the cave stood a figure wrapped in what looked to be dirty, white, linen. They swirled around It as if caught in a strong breeze. The strong smell of rotting flesh filled the air and Aragorn froze as fear rooted him to the spot. With growing alarm and horror, he watched as the figure floated towards him.

"Who—who are you?" he commanded, ignoring the way that his voice cracked. Swallowing thickly he tried to get his swollen tongue to work around the terror that had consumed him.

"_Who_ are you?" The words whirled around them everywhere and nowhere all at once. Alton broke free of Aragorn's lax grip and prostrated himself on the ground.

"Oh, great one! Oh, marvelous one! I thank you for—" his words were cut off as the creature let out a sharp hiss. It drifted closer, the end of the ratted clothes not touching the ground. Aragorn's knees felt weak and he slowly clasped down onto them. Just behind him, he could feel a rush of warm air. The exit. If he could only just—

The creature was speaking again. "You bring another?"

"Yes, oh wondrous one!"

"So soon?" the monster hissed again and its' terrible head turned in Aragorn's direction. It glided closer and the cloth around its face began to unravel.

Only, it had no face.

Decayed flesh was stretched across jutting bones and there was nothing where the eye sockets were but Aragorn's eyes were drawn to its mouth. The lips parted, stretching wide to reveal a gaping hole filled with rows and rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

Aragorn's mouth open in a silent scream as his throat seized and the creature swooped towards him, mouth open and ready to devour him whole.

"Yes, oh brilliant one!" he heard Alton utter as if from another room, another time, another space. All he could see was the creature as it loomed ever him, all he could feel was its overpowering evil, all he could smell was the foul stink of blood and death. He could see the blood stains on the individual teeth. He was going to die.

The thought of his final demise spurred Aragorn's legs into motion and he dived back as a yell was torn from his throat. Still shrieking, he somehow managed to scramble his way back out into the small tunnel. Smacking his head against a low hanging rock, he tripped and tasted blood as he hit the ground. Without stopping, lurched forward. He could smell the fresh air, could hear the panicked cries of the horse, he was so close to escaping. Reaching out, he dug his fingers into the dirt and heaved himself out of the hole and clasped just outside of the entrance.

His horse was waiting dutifully even as she pranced back and forth, braying nervously. Alton's horse reared up on two legs, trying to break her halter as an inhuman scream cut through the air.

Aragorn bolted for his mare. Flinging himself atop his horse's back, he just barely managed to keep his seat as she reared up. Clinging to her neck, he didn't have to tell her to flee. She sprung forward before Aragorn had the chance to look back and make sure that the creature was not slithering out the cave.

The trees flickered past in a blur but his mare kept going, navigating the narrow path with the speed, grace, and agility that only an elven horse could. When she finally slowed to a panting halt, Aragorn was shaken and shivering. Sweat lined his body and his stomach was churning. The image of the monster inches away from his face was burned into his mind's eyes and he bowed his head, resting it against the mare's soft neck.

Both remained motionless, trying to regain their composure.

At long last, Aragorn sat up. "We—We have to go back," he said slowly, his hand curling in the thick mane. The thought left him with his heart pounding and his horse nickered, clearly feeling the same. Taking a deep breath, Aragorn straightened his shoulders.

"No, we have to go back, my friend. Alton—if Alton is still alive that is—and I need to have a deep discussion. I know he knows where—" he broke off, unable to continue. It clearly had not been Alton's first go around with the creatures and the words 'so soon' were ringing in his ears. What if that was where all of Alton's victims disappeared too? What if that creature was their horrible fate? It would explain why they were never found.

What if _Legolas_ had been taken there?

Aragorn leaned over the side of his mare and threw up.

TBC...

**The poor souls! Tune in next week to find out more (and don't forget to leave a review on your way out :D )! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! **

Chapter Three

_The cold made Aragorn shiver, but Legolas and the twins were perfectly content in their simple cloaks. Aragorn glared at them, shrugging his cloak over his heavy coat. _

"_You three don't have to look so pleased with yourself!" he insisted. _

_Only Legolas wasn't pleased. In pain, yes. Intrigued at these strange dreams, yes. Confused, most definitely. _

_Planting himself on a snow-dusted rock, Legolas refused to move. The wind was gusting ferociously and they appeared to be on high up in a mountain. Legolas had no clue which mountain, but that wasn't abnormal anymore. It didn't matter if he was in mountain or meadow, hill or house, desert or plain—it was never somewhere he could fully recognize. _

"_So, let me guess," he snapped, folding his arms tightly against his chest. "You are about to lead me to my heart's desire…?" He rolled his eyes, snorting at as the twins and Aragorn shared surprised looks. _

"_But Legolas, we do have something amazing to show you. Something that will make you happier than you have ever been," Elladan explained, watching with a slight smile as Aragorn hopped up and down on the tips of his toes, blowing air onto his cold hands. _

"_I'm good thanks." Legolas glowered at him. Turning his back on the others he brushed the snow from the rock. Underneath the white powder was simple design etched into the rock; a butterfly resting atop a flower. If he tilted his head to the side, it looked rather orange and purple. _

_Slapping the rock, he swore. He was growing to had the orange butterfly atop the purple flower. Occasionally, he would have flashes of a memory of standing in front of that butterfly and flower in Mirkwood, but they made little sense to him. _

"_I'm not going," he repeated vehemently as Aragorn laid a hand on his shoulder, looking concerned. The man eyes were thoughtful and dark, but something about them wasn't—Estel. It was the same with the twins. _

_The man's touch aggravated the ever-present pain in his shoulder and Legolas shrugged free of his grip. _

_Without a looking back, Legolas strode off down the steep mountainside._

_A pounding headache had started behind his eyes but Legolas struggled forward. His body was too heavy to be buoyed up by the snow and he found himself swimming in it, trying to press forward. He had to escape this dreamland, he just didn't know how._

"_That looks difficult."_

_Jumping, Legolas turned to find the twins and Aragorn staring over at him. _

"_Bedi-na fatanyu!" he snapped, but even as he turned his back they appeared, right next to him. _

"_Ah, Legolas. That's no way to talk to your friends," Elladan protested, clucking his tongue in disappointment._

"_Makes us wonder why we invited you here to see something so beautiful. Maybe you don't deserve to," Elrohir chimed in, examining his fingernails carefully. _

"_Maybe you would prefer to be out fighting for your life in Mirkwood." Aragorn shrugged. _

_Legolas swore again, turning the other direction and starting off the path. Immediately, he found himself in deep snow. Growling, he covered his face with his hands. His headache was growing worse by the second and his knees felt weak. The snow was a brilliant white and it hurt to look at it. _

"_I—just—want—to—leave—these—stupid—dreams—behind!" Legolas ground out each word, balling up his hand and pressing it against his eyes. He was so sick of them, yet they never ended and he was no longer sure what was real and what was not. Maybe nothing was. _

_The sons of Elrond did not appear to have anything to add to this as they stared dumbly at him. _

_Abruptly the white snow slide out of focus and blackness replaced it. A blackness that was filled with a stench that made Legolas gag. The pain that his body was experiencing flared to a new level, leaving him gasping for air._

_He blinked again and the white snow was back. _

"_What—" he glanced around him, looking at his friends. They had frozen in their last position but before he could move to touch them everything when dark and the odor was back. His chest burned and he struggled to draw in a breath. He couldn't move his limbs and the panic coursing through his veins wasn't helping. _

_A low hiss came from the corner but he could not turn his head. Something was sliding over the ground towards him Legolas held his breath, begging his body to move. A rasping breath was pulled in right next to his ear followed by a soft scream, or maybe it was laughter. All he knew was that the next moment shattering pain had pierced his world and he went tumbling back into whatever depths he had come from. _

_He did not doubt that he would awake in another dream. There was no way out of this eternal hell. _

NOWAYOUT

It took Aragorn the better part of the night to retrace his frantic flight and by the time he found the small clearing, it was nearing dawn. Alton's horse greeted him with a nervous nicker as he entered the clearing.

"What are you still doing here?" Aragorn asked as he edged closer to the frightened animal. He dug out a slightly mushy apple from the bottom of his bag, allowing her to chomp down on it before he moved to untie her halter. He couldn't help but think that there were very few reasons that she was still here. Either Alton had been devoured by the creature in place of Aragorn, or he was still down there.

Once the horse was appeased, Aragorn crept towards the edge of the cave with his sword in hand. He refused to actually enter, that would have to wait for the brilliant light of morning when dark things fled for cover.

He could not hear anything and moved back, shivering in the early morning air. Securing his own horse in the woods not far from the clearing, he spent the rest of the night in a tree that overlooked the cave. If anything was to leave or enter, he was going to know about it.

Morning came and went and Aragorn was on the verge believing that Alton had been consumed when the man staggered out of the cave. His face was whiter than fresh snow and he had to lean upon his horse for several moments.

Aragorn raised himself up onto his knees, one hand clinging tightly to the branches.

Alton untied the halter before swinging sluggishly up and turning his horse towards the forest. Aragorn straightened, waiting.

As Alton passed beneath him Aragorn flung himself out of the tree. Alton barely had time to glance up before Aragon slammed into the assassin. His momentum tipped both of them over the horse and they hit the ground with a hard crack. Alton cried out as he took the brunt of the weight and Aragorn reared back. Slamming his fist hard against Alton's jaw, he watched with satisfaction as the man let out a soft sign and went limp.

Panting, Aragorn watched Alton for a moment to assure himself that the man really was unconscious and then staggered upright. Rubbing at his shoulder where it had hit the ground, he jumped in surprise as Alton's horse dug her nose into his back. Reaching behind him, he lightly patted her nose.

"Your hose isn't even taking your side, and that is just pathetic," Aragorn muttered under his breath to the unconscious man. Gingerly rolling Alton over a few feet, he tied him securely to the base of a tree.

Then, he waited.

It wasn't long until a soft groan filled the clearing and Aragorn moved in. Grabbing Alton by the hair of his head, he shoved a small knife under the assassin's chin.

"What was that _thing_?" he growled as Alton's eyes blinked open. The man frowned in confusion as his eyes tracked over Aragorn's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes and they widened as he felt the bite of steel against his throat.

"I—I don't know what you are talking about," he squeaked out.

Aragorn snorted, applying pressure to the knife. Alton's closed his eyes, hardly daring to breathe. "Try again. What was that monster?"

Alton blinked and took a deep breath. "I can't tell you," he insisted in a calmer voice, through his eyes were still glittering with fear.

Aragorn pulled back his lip in a snarl. "You seemed pretty comfortable and cozy down there. Why do you choose to associate with such evil?"

Alton closed his eyes and didn't reply for several seconds. Aragorn was ready to bark out another command when he spoke. "Why don't I ask some of my own questions? Why do you want the elf-lord, Elrond, dead?"

"I don't think that you are in much of a position to be asking questions right now." Aragorn thrust his face into Alton's, increasing pressure on his knife. Alton blinked rapidly and Aragorn gave a tight-lipped smile. "Now, what as that creature?"

"I'm not answering," Alton turned his face away and clenched his hands together.

"I'm asking nicely right now but it doesn't have to remain that way. How about you answer the question?" Aragorn's knife dug into the soft flesh of Alton's throat and a drop of blood rolled down the pale skin. Alton watched Aragorn, trying to conceal the fear that was making his eyes wide.

"You were a friend to that prince."

The statement took Aragon by surprise and he drew back. "What makes you say that?" he asked evenly.

"You have to ask?" Alton laughed. "Do yourself a favor and don't try to con a con-artist! You should have seen your face when I was telling you how I killed him. You were about to cry, weren't you, you poor little soul," he threw his lip out into a pout before spitting into the dirt. "Besides, no one looking like the likes of you would have had the amount of money that you promised. So either you didn't have the full amount and were going to run off after my foul dead was done, or you had to have something else up your sleeve. Oh, and let's not forget all those questions about the prince. I saw your true side a mile away!"

"That still doesn't tell me what kind of monster that was," Aragorn said stiffly.

"What if I told you about how the prince begged for his life? Shall I tell you about that?"

It was Aragorn's turn to laugh. "Now who is lying? Don't try to sell me lies about someone I know better than I know my own mother. But now since we are on the topic of how you killed him, did you take him to that creature?"

Alton's lip curled up and he lashed out. "He was alone when I made my move. The village boy had run on ahead, but the prince had been distracted. He was looking at something and all it took (as you said yourself) was one well-aimed arrow that was laced in poison that put made him comatose almost instantly. I, personally, thought it would be a lot harder to catch him. Ha, so much for the fabled attentiveness of elves! I mean, I could have—"

Aragorn tightened his grip in the man's hair, yanking his head back and cutting him off. "Did you, or did you not, take him into that cave?" His voice caught on the last word and Alton's lip twitched upwards. Leaning forward, it was his turn to look Aragorn dead in the eye.

"Yes."

Aragorn took a shuddering breath, looking away for a moment as he regained his composure. When his eyes met Alton's brown eyes they were rock hard. "Is that what you do with all of your victims?"

Alton shrugged and Aragorn jerked his head back, the knife back at his throat. "We will take that as a yes, then. Why? Why in the name of the Valar would you bring them to such a creature? Do you have some sort of deal with It?"

Alton studied Aragorn. "Could I have something to eat? I'm starving."

Aragorn resisted the urge to crack Alton's head against the tree. "Maybe if you tell me what that creature was and why you take your victims there." Something dawned on Aragorn and he leaned in closer. "It's a sacrifice. You make a sacrifice to It and in return, It gives you what?" He paused, thinking. "Money? No, you pick that up on the side with the whole assassin thing. Fame?" Standing, he began to twirl the knife as he paced, thinking. "No, not that. Good looks? No, no. that's not it either. Long life?" Snapping his fingers with triumph he turned back to Alton. "That's it! A life for a life, it all makes sense!"

Alton deflated, staring mutely at the ground. Aragorn crouched down next to him and tilted his knife under his chin. Alton averted his gaze before answering. "It grants me one year of additional life for every living soul that I bring to it," he said hollowly.

"Have you ever collected on these years?" Aragorn asked softly, rocking back on his heels and tucking a fist under his chin as he studied the man with new eyes.

Alton snorted. "I'm far older than I look, boy!" he paused, his face grey and a shudder tore through his body. "It's never pretty, but I'm needed alive so that I can bring It needs live souls to feed off of." He stopped turning a dark glare on Aragorn. "After you fled last night, It almost took me down to its cavern."

Aragorn shrugged. "Did you bring Legolas here?"

"Oh, so you were on first name terms with the prince?" Alton smiled wickedly. "Let me take you down there, I'm sure that It would be willing to accommodate you and lead you to your precious prince. It only requires a new soul every few months so he might still be alive. That way you could hold his hand as he dies!" The words were sarcastic and Alton rolled his eyes, muttering something else under his breath.

Aragorn had stopped listening as his eyes were drawn back to the entrance of the cave and he slowly rose to his feet.

"Wait? You're not seriously thinking of going back in there? It's a death wish, but be my guest." Alton tugged at the bonds that held him firmly against the tree, frowning. "Untie me first, though."

"Not likely." Aragorn was moving swiftly as he let out a long whistle before emptying the contents of his pack on the ground. Shoving his belongings into two piles, he added only the most essential things back into his pack. "Besides, unlike you, I value life. I can't rest knowing that there was a chance that I could have saved him. I'm going back in there."

He didn't take time to allow the fear from last night to sink in and simply turned to his mare, who had come at his whistle. Untying a second pack from the saddled, he rifled through it until he pulled out a bundle. Shoving that into his first pack, turned to face Alton.

"And unlike you, I value friendship and do not cower away in the corners, living a long but unfulfilling life. I asked Legolas once if he trusted me with his life. He said yes and I'm going in there because I fear to break that promise more than I do the shadow." Gathering the rest of his belongings up off of the forest floor, he shoved them haphazardly into the second pack and retried it to the saddle.

Alton shifted, sneering at Aragorn. "At least untie me before you doom yourself! I'll die for you will not return."

Aragorn paused in his frantic rush. He knew that there was a real possibility that he was not going to walk back out of that hell-hole. Pausing, he thought for a long moment. Sighing, he turned back to the assassin and heaved him to his feet, dragging him back towards his mare.

"I can't just let you go, you have to understand that, but I wasn't lying when I said that I valued life," Aragorn explained as Alton struggled against him. "This is an elven horse, and she understands more than you would give her credit for so here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell her to wait till morning. If I have not returned by then, she will escort you back to town. Don't worry, I'll write a note and explain everything. I'll even be so kind as to tell them to put you into Thranduil's care. I do not doubt that the master of Laketown will be willing to offer you in exchange for the boy."

Alton's face lost all its color and he swayed alarmingly as Aragorn scribbled out said note and attached it with a simple clasp to the front of Alton's shirt. Hoisting the man up onto the horse Aragorn settled him there before tying him firmly to the saddle horn. Securing the assassin's hands behind his back, he ensured that they were bound tight.

Stepping back he admired his handy work. "Don't fall off," he recommended.

"This is a horse! It isn't going to take me anywhere in the morning. _It's a horse_ and you are insane!" Alton raged with a touch of fear as Aragorn freed Alton's horse and tied its lead rope his mare. Snagging his pack off the ground, he strapped it across his shoulders and, with an unlit torch in one hand, turned towards the entrance of the cave.

Marching forward, Aragorn ignored the way that his palms were starting to sweat. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it and a wave of fear washed over him. This was a suicide mission, but if Legolas was alive...

The cave mouth gapped open, ready to accept him. The early afternoon sunlight beat down onto his back and Aragorn soaked it in as he breathed in the fresh air. Alton was shouting a string of profanities at him, but he paid it no mind.

_Legolas is probably throwing the most dramatic temper tantrum about not being able to see the sun or trees. _The thought of Legolas telling off his captor brought a smile to Aragorn face. Not waiting a moment more, he plunged into the entrance.

TBC...

**Well, Aragorn is on his way! I promise that all that wonderful angst/hc (and everything else that goes with it) is coming in the next few chapters. :) :) **

**Feel free to drop a review off on the way out! Thanks again to everyone who is reading this. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey peeps! Hopefully, your week was fantastic and you are getting ready to enjoy a wonderful weekend! If not, then know that I am in that club with you! One day, life might give us all a break. **

**A big shout to my absolutely amazing beta reader: Cuthalion97**

Chapter Four

The temperature dropped almost instantly as Aragorn slipped through the entrance and into the open cavern. The lingering smell in the musty air was unpleasant and he grimaced, gripping his knife tightly. He doubted that his weapon would do any good against a creature of such darkness but all the same, but he felt safer with it in hand.

Looking around, he waited on tenterhooks for the monster to leap out and gobble him whole, but nothing happened.

Everything was silent. Everything was still.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aragorn went quickly to work. Lighting the torch, he held it aloft. Last night he hadn't exactly had time to look around and now he discovered that some sort of lichen covered the walls. He couldn't help but notice that the ceiling was not much higher than he was. Raising the torch, he held his breath, half expecting to find a rotting corpse...but all he found was the long passageway. The memory of the creature floating towards him last night sent a chill down his spine.

Blowing out a heavy breath, he wiped his hands on his breeches and started his journey with the torch held steady.

NOWAYOUT

Aragorn was unsure of how long he continued down the dark, sloped, path with his heart in his throat. There was no way to keep time in this dank hole that stank of death and evil. All time and space seemed to end and the sunlight had become a mere memory as the darkness weighed down on him.

As he went ever deeper, the walls began to shrink, closing in around him. It was not long before his head was brushing the roof of the ceiling as it also shrank and he found himself moving along in an awkward crouch. Aragorn's arm ached from holding the torch at such a strange angle, but without it, he wouldn't have been able to see his hand directly in front of his face.

The ceiling did not stop its rapid descent and soon Aragorn was forced to move to his knees, crawling along the rocky pathway. Small rocks bit harshly into his knees, but all the same, he continued on. Soon even crawling was a struggle, and he came to a stop.

The torch was going to have to go, for he could not hold it properly if he was to continue. The sick feeling in his stomach returned as he gazed at the warm light, soaking it in. After a long moment, he snuffed it out. Suddenly, he was staring into a crushing a wall of blackness and he felt the dregs of fear return.

He didn't like this.

Taking a deep breath, he did the only thing he could. Tucking the torch under his arm, he lay flat on his belly and crawled forward like a snake. Pressed fully against the ground with rock entombing him on all sides, Aragorn suddenly understood Legolas' dislike of small spaces. Normally, situations like this wouldn't bother him but this… this was wrong. He missed the sun and the breeze, the chirping of birds, the trees and grass…

Using his fingertips to pull himself along, Aragorn inched forward. Abruptly, he cracked his head against a low chunk of rock and he swore loudly. His words echoed hauntingly around him and Aragorn froze. With his heart pounding in his chest, he waited for the reverberations to die. Even when it had, he still remained motionless, holding his breath and waiting for any sound of the creature.

Nothing. The tunnels were still as silent as before and he took several deep breaths, waiting for his heart to slow back to normal. He was as good as dead if that creature found him right now. He could hardly move forward, never mind put up a fight; he couldn't even turn around.

Once again inching forward, he half wondered what it would feel like to have some of that linen wrap around his ankle or wrist. Perhaps his throat. The thought sent a chill down his spine and spurred him forward.

At long last, and to his great relief, the ceiling began to rise and the walls to widen. The oppressing weight of stone atop his body was gone and as soon as he was able to kneel, he fumbled with the torch and the flint. As the light flickered up against the bitter darkness, he offered a silent prayer of thanks and clutched it close. He had to blink several times to be able to see again, but he didn't mind.

No longer feeling so alone, he looked around but all he could see was stone. There didn't appear to be an end to the tunnel even though he was already deep into the mountainside.

Shivering in the damp darkness, Aragorn labored down the hallway. It was a straight and narrow path, turning neither to the left nor to the right. He was thankful for this one tender mercy. He had brought rope with him just in case the tunnel had branched off into a dizzying mass of separate branches, but he was anxious to leave this cave behind. Legolas, he was sure, was beyond ready to go home.

Several minutes later, Aragorn found himself in a wide, open, space and for the first time in what seemed to be hours he was able to fully stand. The sound of water dripping in a far corner echoed loudly in the rocky space and he held the torch high. It was completely devoid of anything living but the steady trickle of water in the very back.

There was also no way out.

Looking around in confusion, Aragorn was about to double back, afraid that he had missed something when he spotted another opening. It was small enough that as a full-grown man, it was going to be a squeeze to get into. Cursing softly, he kicked out a large pebble. It went flying, clanking loudly in the deathly silent. Aragorn did not want to enter that cave and found himself envious of the monster that was clearly much more flexible then he was.

A moment later, his spirits were darkened further when Aragorn realized that the torch was going to have to go again. The thought of being alone in the darkness did not sit comfortably with him, and he paced around the pocket of space for several moments, saving the light and stretching his legs before forcing himself to move to the entrance. Extinguishing the light, he couldn't help but feel that the pitch blackness was a death sentence.

Edging forward with his fingers outstretched, he felt along the edges of the opening and eased himself forward. Damp, cool, stone was all around him and the smell of musty earth was strong in his nose, but he pushed forward. There was enough space for him to crawl forward with only his head brushing against the top of the wall. That didn't last long and soon his body was filling every inch of space available. Forcing himself back onto his belly, he wiggled forward like a worm.

If it was possible, this tunnel was even tighter than the one before it. There was one terrifying moment when he was sure that had sentenced himself to death when he became stuck in a sharp bend. No amount of jostling or turning would free himself and panic began to set in. He was going to either die of dehydration or lack of air. The thought was not comforting and he continued to twist and pull but his shoulders were simply too broad.

Finally, with a grunt of effort and a muffled curse, he forced his way through with the sound of ripping fabric. The instant stinging in his shoulder suggested that he had left behind some flesh as well, but he didn't care as he hurriedly scrabbled away from what had almost become his coffin.

The time spent wiggling endlessly forward amidst the crushing stone on all sides seemed to last forever until, abruptly, the walls started to open up again. Scrambling forward, Aragorn was shaken enough that as soon as he was able, he simply sat in the light of the freshly rekindled torch and breathed.

"I never thought I would say this, but I hope that you were unconscious for the trip down here," he muttered, hugging his knees close to his chest and watching the flight flicker against the rocky surface. "Maybe even for the return journey." The thought of having to go back left Aragorn with sweaty palms and he repressed a shudder.

Leaning his head back against the wall in complete exhaustion, he let his eyes closed as the light of the torch glinted in the darkness. He never meant to sleep, but sleep he did.

When he opened his eyes again, the torch was still burning, although faintly. For a moment he couldn't remember anything, but then it all came flooding back. Alton, the monster and then the slim hope that Legolas was alive. Jumping to his feet, he smacked his head against the low ceiling.

"Ow," he muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing ferociously at the tender spot. "When I get out of there…"

Aragorn continued on for what seemed to be at least a day and he had just given up hope of ever leaving it behind when the tunnel sprung open to reveal a large cavern.

Stepping hesitantly into the open area, he flooded it with the pale light from his torch. Once again the soft sounds of water dripping reached his ears and he found a small pool of water to his left. His smile faltered and then slid from his face as fast as it had come. No longer was their just one tunnel. Scattered throughout the cavern were close to ten different branch off.

Legolas could be in any of those…

Sighing, Aragorn was just unwinding the rope that he had brought with him for this very reason when a rush of cold air swamped him. Pausing, he cursed silently as the temperature continued to drop and his breath plumed out in front of him. Scrambling for the torch, Aragorn gripped it one hand while the other gripped his sword and he looked around widely.

He couldn't stay out here in the open, he needed someplace to hide—

Ducking inside a narrow opening just off of the pool, he sincerely hoped that the creature wasn't going or coming from it. The same paralyzing fear from began to wash over him and he found himself unable to move, even had he wanted to. All Aragorn could do was watch in panic as from down one of the branches a white figure appeared, shinning in the darkness. His heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest.

The creature glided forward and Aragorn frowned. The creature was noticeably different, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Did it look…lighter? Lighter than before as it floated happily along and the endless waves of cloth that surrounded It had taken on a life of their own. They twisted, turned, and writhed enthusiastically around the creature.

It reached an impossibly small crack in the wall and Aragorn watched with something in between amazement and fear as it contorted itself into the small opening.

Aragorn sat there for several long minutes as the fear slowly released him and warmth crept back into his limbs. Not only was he still alive, but he had learned several important things. Firstly, the creature had horrible senses. Secondly, It was comfortable here and was not expecting an attack. To be fair, he doubted that no living being had ever willing entered this tomb. Thirdly, there was no way that a normal being could fit into that hole so that was clearly _not _where It kept the victims.

Gathering up his supplies in a rush, Aragorn began to jog down the corridor that the creature had just vacated with his torch held high.

Wrapping the rope around his upper arm, he tied it to a jutting piece of rock that was just inside the opening and clutched the torch close. Aragorn knew immediately that this particular tunnel was used often. The rock here had a permanently cold feeling and it made Aragorn's heart chill in his breast. The evil was palpable.

Pressing forward all the same, Aragorn found himself in another large chamber. As he raised his torch high, his stomach churned and he was glad that he had not eaten anything in a while. The room was filled with bodies that were wrapped in a white cloth and lined up neatly in long rows that stretched on into the very back of the cavern.

Aragorn reverently took a step forward. The putrid smell of rotting flesh filled the room and he gagged. Shoving his sleeve up against his mouth and nose and he took another step forward as tears sparked in his tired eyes.

There had to be over a hundred bodies in this room…There was so much death right here, so many lives that had been cut permanently short, people who had loved ones waiting for them.

People had been coming here to die long before Aragorn could have saved them. Their faces (just like their bodies) had been covered with the white cloth. Abruptly, Aragorn realized where all this cloth had come from and the thought of the creature wrapping Its victims this way, like a spider, made Aragorn nauseated.

Crouching down next to the first bodies, Aragorn held the torch firmly in one hand as he began to unwind the bandages from the face. They fell back, revealing a man's half-decomposed face. A dead face, but a face he didn't know.

Feeling horrible for it, Aragorn let out a sigh of relief. It was not Legolas. Bowing his head, Aragorn brought his hand to his chest and offered a prayer on behalf of the dead before respectfully covering the man's face again. Moving to the next body he found another man, another face he did not know.

The third body was slimmer than the others were and Aragorn found himself unable to reach for the loose bindings. It was either a woman or an elf, but he didn't want to see either. Taking a calming breath, Aragorn's trembling hands began to unwind the bandages.

Unable to look, he had to squeeze his eyes shut, steeling himself for the moment. Opening his eyes, he flinched hard. He knew what face he was going to see, but it still punched the air from his lungs as Legolas' familiar features flickered in the torchlight. The elf's eyes were closed and sunken into his gaunt, white face. Something dark that looked suspiciously like blood marred the white cloth.

Letting out a low moan, Aragon reached out, framing the prince's face between his hands. Legolas' skin was colder than the stone he rested upon and a silent sob escaped Aragorn's lips as he bent his head, letting their foreheads rest against each other one last time. At least he would have a body to bring back to Thranduil and his people. The thought was not as comforting as he had hoped it would be and all that was left was…emptiness.

Aragorn had failed. He had failed Legolas.

Laying his closed fist across Legolas' still chest, he screwed up his face, trying to stop the hot tears before they could spill over. He would cry, he would mourn, but he could not afford too—

Aragorn stopped, his breath catching. Frowning, he looked down at his still friend. He could have sworn that he just felt Legolas take a breath…

Suddenly eager, he leaned forward and pressed his fingers against the elf's lips, he waited with bated breath. A moment later a weak flutter of air brushed against his fingertips.

"Legolas?" Aragorn jerked forward, one hand still pressed against the prince's chest while the other dug underneath the bindings that were wrapped around Legolas' throat. His fingers scrabbled until he came until they came to rest against the pulse point. "Valar—" he choked out. Aragorn almost didn't believe it, but he couldn't help it. He did, he believed it with every fiber of his heart as he felt the faint beat of the elf's heart against his fingers. Legolas was alive!

Gathering up the prince's still body in his arms, he enfolded him in a tight hug, pressing his face against the dirty bandages and letting out a sob. _Legolas was alive!_

He did not know how long he sat there, clutching the prince close to his chest.

"I'm going to get us out of here. Just hold on," he whispered as he eased Legolas back down onto the cold floor. Jumping to his feet, he tucked his sword firmly into his belt. Legolas was in desperate need of aid, but Aragorn couldn't give it, not here. They had to leave.

Turning back to Legolas, Aragorn offered him a quick apology as he hefted him over his shoulder. Locking his arms around Legolas' legs, Aragorn bent awkwardly to grab the sputtering torch and made his way towards the entrance. Before he left, Aragorn paused, looking back.

The memory of all the bodies alone in this cavern would haunt his dreams for years to come, he was sure of it.

Moving quickly, he slipped back into the main cavern. Taking just a moment to lower himself into a squat, he untied the rope and wrapped it around his arm. Setting his sights on the main tunnel that would lead out of this hell-hole, he shifted Legolas. His weight was comforting against Aragorn's back and he pressed forward with new found determination.

TBC...

**At long last, they are together again! Let the H/C and angst continue... **

**If you enjoyed (or even if you hated it) I would love to know! :D :D **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey Y'all! I am so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I started a new and rather demanding job that sucks all the life and energy from my soul. I'm still hoping to update every week, but it might be more like every other week for the summer. Once school starts and my hours get cut then things will get back to normal. Thanks for your patience and for reading! You are all amazing and beautiful people!**

**Thanks to my amazing beta-reader, Cuthalion97, for fixing all my mistakes and helping me to make this resemble something worth reading. :) **

Chapter Five

Slipping forward, Aragorn paused just long enough to ensure that the creature was not present before ducking back into the main cavern. The steady trickling of water was the only sound and he breathed a sigh of relief. Adjusting Legolas slightly, he dashed forward towards the tunnel that would lead them back to the surface and freedom. The elf swung limply against his back, his body still encased in white linen. The weight was comforting and it urged Aragorn onwards until his knees began to throb and his lower back ached from the burden he carried.

He did not stop. Only when he heard the first weak and pain filled moan did he pause his frantic rush.

"Legolas?" he asked softly, wincing as his voice echoed around him in the small confines. For a moment, there was only silence and then it was Legolas' groan that echoed back.

Lowering himself to his knees, Aragorn stuck the torch firmly in a tight crack between two rocks and then gently lowered Legolas from his shoulder. Laying him down on the cold floor, he was once again struck with how ill the elf looked.

"Legolas?" He was half-afraid that he had imagined the noises but Legolas let out a breathy moan, rocking his head to the side. Flicking his boot knife free, Aragorn hurriedly began to cut the cloth from Legolas' body. The white linen was stained in several different places with a dark, crusty, substance that made Aragorn cringe. It heavily coated the elf's left side. Gingerly reaching out, he slid the knife through the tainted material and began to tug it lose.

Legolas gasped, his face twisting in unconscious pain and Aragorn hurriedly pulled back. His knife was tainted red with congealed blood and he quickly wiped it off. Whatever wound lay hidden beneath the linen was fresh.

More carefully this time, he eased the bloodied material away from the elf before stripping him of the last of the cloth. He flung it aside to join the rest of the discarded material, already examining the elf.

Dried blood flecked Legolas' gaunt lower face and neck but fresh blood was just starting to stiffen the already encrusted material of his ripped and tattered tunic. His arms were crossed atop his chest and his hands were bound together with a piece of material that hung loosely around his limp wrists. Maybe once it had been tight, but Aragorn was able to slide them off with little effort.

Legolas, he decided, had had better days.

Reaching out and cupping the prince's cold face with both hands, Aragorn called his name softly. The elf's eyelids flickered but didn't open and Aragorn glanced down at the bloodied shirt.

Shifting back the tattered and ruined material at the elf's shoulder, Aragorn winced as he examined the jagged and torn flesh beneath. Something had pierced Legolas' skin multiple times and the skin was shredded and inflamed. Pulling the tunic back farther, Aragorn felt his eyes widen as the realization hit him. They were teeth marks. Row and rows of teeth marks as if the creature had gnawed on the elf like Its own personal chew toy.

But why?

The creature clearly did not eat Its victims, this fact proven by all the bodies in the cavern, and it wasn't as though It just enjoyed chewing on them at random. The bite marks were all centered very distinctly on the elf's shoulder and lower neck.

Aragorn didn't have any clear answers.

Pressing lightly against the pus-filled flesh, he was rewarded with a breathy gasp. Legolas shifted, trying to pull away from the pain.

"Shh, just a moment," Aragorn automatically comforted as he bent closer. The wounds were weeping and needed to be cleaned, slathered in medicine and correctly bandaged, but it was going to have to wait until they were out of here. Legolas groaned again, his head tossing as he muttered something too low for Aragorn to hear. Wrenching his gaze away from the mess that was Legolas' shoulder, Aragorn turned his full attention onto the elf's face.

"Legolas, can you hear me? Com'on, open your eyes for me…" he coaxed. Legolas' eyelids flickered and Aragorn smiled as he grasped one of Legolas' hands firmly, once again calling his name. Legolas let out another pitiful sound as his eyelids worked to open. Pain creased his face and his now freed hand fluttered up towards his shoulder, but Aragorn captured it, holding it gently.

"I know you can do it, Legolas. Open your eyes, look at me…"

Legolas' face screwed up as his head turned towards the sound of Aragorn's voice.

"Estel…?" Legolas' eyes remained shut as he croaked out the words and the man's heart clenched.

"That's right. Here," Fumbling for his water flask, he eased Legolas' head up just enough for him to sip at the water. The elf's hands came up, holding shakily to Aragorn's wrist as he coughed raggedly on the first mouthful. The second went down better and then Legolas turned his head away, refusing more.

His eyelids fluttered again and then he cracked them open. He stared dazedly up at Aragorn, confusion lining his gaze.

"Estel, is that—is that you?" His voice was harsh and weak but Aragorn could only smile.

"Who else would it be?" he asked with a small grin, offering the water again. Legolas didn't make a move towards it, his eyes traveling around the dim tunnel, noting the lighted torch and the low ceiling.

"Where are we now?"

Aragorn hesitated, gnawing at his lower lip. "We are in a cave," he finally said. Legolas closed his eyes again, a wince marring his features. A moment later, they popped open and he studied Aragorn critically.

"And which Estel are you?" Legolas asked, his words slurring together. He shook his head, refocusing his gaze on the human. Aragorn's smile faltered as he squeezed Legolas' hand.

"I don't know, how many do you see?" he asked lightly.

Legolas shook his head, a deep frown furrowing his forehead. "No, that's—" tightening his grip on Aragorn, he attempted to sit up. Aragorn pressed a hand against his chest, keeping where he was at.

"Slowly, Legolas. Don't go so fast," he murmured, watching anxiously as Legolas's face went from white to grey to green and then back to grey within a few seconds. "Just lay still for a moment."

The elf moaned raggedly, breathing hard through his mouth. Aragorn's hand slid down, tracking his pulse worriedly.

"No, I—" the elf tried again, his hands bunching up in Aragorn's tunic as he levered himself up. Rolling his eyes in fond annoyance, Aragorn wrapped a hand around his elbow, steadying him, before Legolas collapsed heavily against his side. He lay there for a second, panting and with his eyes closed as Aragorn wrapped a protective arm around his back.

"That's not what I meant," Legolas finally declared once he gained some composure. Aragorn still hadn't let go for fear that the elf would topple back over and he gave his friend a long, searching, look.

"What did you mean?"

"I—I—" Legolas shook his head in frustration. "I don't know! Just which Aragorn are you? Where are you going to take me?" he repeated more emphatically. Aragorn shrugged helplessly, completely lost.

"I'm your friend and I'm taking you out of here," he finally settled on. The answer didn't seem to satisfy Legolas, but he let it go. His grip on Aragorn's tunic tightened as he sunk forward, resting his head against Aragorn's knee and letting out a low moan.

Aragorn looked up at the ceiling, cursing under his breath. Legolas needed rest, but they had no time for it. Any minute now that creature would find Legolas gone or perhaps go for a stroll up the tunnel and their chances were extremely slim of defeating It.

"Listen to me," Aragorn began, helping the elf to shift over against the wall of the cave. He slumped against it weakly. "I'm going to bandage up your arm but then we need to leave here. Do you think that you can walk?"

He rummaged through his bag, pulling out a small roll of clean bandages and a jar of a thick paste. Spreading it liberally across the cloth, he looked back up at Legolas.

Legolas was frowning, studying him carefully.

"Why?" The elf finally challenged as Aragorn began to wrap the bandage around the mutilated skin. "Why do we need to leave?"

That was not the question that Aragon had been expecting and he bent closer, his concern inching up a notch. The elf's eyes were not focusing correctly and he looked dazed.

"Let me just remind you that we are in a—uh—cave. Let me mark this down as the one time that you actually wanted to stay in a cave," he grinned, but Legolas didn't smile and his slipped off his face. "But we do need to leave. It's not safe here."

Legolas frowned, not looking convinced but when Aragorn reiterated the question, 'Can you walk?' he nodded.

"Perfect," Aragorn said, tucking the final corner of the bandage in. He seriously doubted that the elf would actually be able to make it more than a hundred paces, but the elf had surprised him more than once in similar situations. Well, if anything that they had been in before could count as similar. Gathering up his supplies, Aragorn pulled out a second cloak from his pack. He held it gently, feeling the light material. He had snagged it from Legolas' room when he had stopped by the wood-elf's home just a few days prior.

Glancing up at the elf, he felt a familiar stinging behind his eyes. Pulling Legolas forward, he swung the cloak around his shoulders and pinned it shut before his hand stopped to rest against the side of Legolas' face.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."

Legolas couldn't help the small smile that flitted across his face and Aragorn's eyes shone.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Tucking an arm around Legolas' waist, Aragorn heaved him to his feet. The elf wavered, sagging in Aragorn's arms as his body gave out. "Whoa, steady, steady. I've got you!" Aragorn wrapped the elf's good arm around his shoulder while his fingers threaded themselves through Legolas' belt, holding him steady.

"I can walk," Legolas assured the man softly even as his head gave an uncalled for throb of pain and his knees trembled, threatening to give out. Aragorn only gripped him tighter.

With the direct order to, "Tell me if you need to stop," they started off into the surrounding darkness.

Legolas' head swam he attempted to keep pace with the human. His brain was having trouble issuing orders to his feet and they kept entangling him until at last he gave up and simply let Aragorn drag him along. He knew that he should be frustrated by his lack of movement, or at the very least he should force himself to at least try to walk, but he couldn't find the energy to care. Maybe if this was the real Aragorn, he would have put more effort into it, but it wasn't so it didn't matter.

Besides, in a few minutes, he was just going to fall into another dream and leave this one behind.

His head was starting to throb terribly with every jostling step that the man took and for the first time, he found himself hoping that the darkness would swallow him whole.

Only it didn't.

Legolas' confusion deepened as he realized that he had not seen the butterfly yet. Usually, the small insect would appear fairly early on in his dreams. Watching the torchlight reflect on the rocks, he narrowed his eyes. Perhaps it would appear there this time...The torchlight swirled against the walls, making them twist and turn in nauseating ways as his head continued to pound. The longer he watched the more, the sicker he felt and his stomach churned violently. The sharp smell of smoke and burning tar filled the air around them, not helping matters.

His right leg buckled and Aragorn hands tightened painfully on him.

"If you need to stop, we can. Or I could…" Aragorn trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging and Legolas could feel the anxious looks that were being shot his direction.

Legolas ignored the man.

This new dream was different then all the rest but he was still working out if that was a good or a bad thing. The amount of pain searing across his whole body was new and not exactly welcomed but this Aragorn…something about him was different, comforting.

Closing his eyes in frustration, Legolas tried to think but each step that Aragorn took sent a fresh wave of pain reverberating up his spine and into his skull. His head felt like it was about to split open. A low groan forced its way past his clenched teeth

"Alright, that's enough! We are stopping whether you like it or not." Aragorn's voice echoed oddly as if from very far away but Legolas couldn't answer. The walls were twisting around him, the floor shifting under his feet-Aragorn called his name worriedly and the human's warm hand was against his chin, tilting his head up. The movement was more than Legolas could bear and he leaned over, heaving harshly.

Somehow, he ended up sprawled on the ground with Aragorn's arm holding his head up as he gagged and retched weakly. The water that he had forced down earlier lay splatted across the ground and his head thudded pathetically, drowning out Aragorn's gentle voice. He tried to move, to turn away from the vomit, but the movement sent a spike of agony through his skull and he doubled over, dry heaving once again. Moaning loudly, Legolas could feel himself starting to go limp as dark spots obscured his vision and Aragon's hold on him became painfully tight. His stomach lurched urgently, but he didn't have anything to bring up.

Everything faded and relief flooded him. At last, a new dream...

Only, the darkness didn't claim him. Aragorn was still calling softly to him and a moment later his vision came flooding back. The damp walls glistened in the light and the smell of the torch filled his nostrils. Aragorn's hand was wrapped painfully tight around his wrist and his darkly worried eyes were boring holes into Legolas' face.

Groaning again, Legolas let his head loll back to rest against Aragorn's chest. He wanted to get out of this dream! Willing himself to simply let go, he waited for the blackness to come but nothing happened. Instead, something that sounded dreadfully like a whimper escaped him.

Aragorn's hands were wrapped lightly around his chest, pulling his limp body back up into a sitting position. An arm slid underneath his knees and suddenly Legolas found himself floating. The jolting movements tore through his head and for a moment he was lost in an oblivion of pain. When he resurfaced, they had stopped moving and he was lying in the cold dirt, his head resting in Aragorn's lap.

"Shh...be still." Aragorn's warm hand was pressing against his shoulder, keeping him in place. "Sleep, regain your strength." One of the man's hands came down covering his eyes and shielding them from the light of his torch. "Shh, just...sleep."

Legolas let out a sigh of relief at the command. Letting his eyes fluttering shut, he waited eagerly for darkness to claim him.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but try as Legolas might sleep would not come. Aragorn was humming gently above him, his hand cradling through Legolas' ratted and snarled hair softly, or pulling the cloak in tighter around his trembling shoulders. It wasn't helping and Legolas felt as though his head was about to burst as oblivion continued to evade him.

"Aragorn—" he couldn't help the low urgent whisper of desperation.

"I'm right here," Aragorn responded, his hand stilling against the elf's shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze.

"My—head—hurts," Legolas finally managed and he felt more than heard Aragorn let out a long sigh. He wanted to echo it. If he could just wake up for real than all this would go away, but he didn't know how… Tears pricked his eyes as frustration and pain clouded his mind.

"I know." Aragorn sounded just as tired as he was. "Hold on for one second, I might have something you can take." Leaning forward, Aragorn struggled to free his pack out from behind him. Legolas grunted at the movement, his hands flying up to his head and Aragorn stilled, easing himself back slowly.

"You good?" he asked, his hand seeking Legolas'. He squeezed it firmly and waited until the elf feebly returned it before snatching up his bag. Fumbling in his haste, he shifted past different sized bottles and pouches until he found what he was looking for.

Legolas whimpered at the noise, his hands burying themselves deep into his hair. "Aragorn—" he grounded out, gasping.

"Here, try this. It's not going to taste great, but it should help."

Legolas eyed the dried and shriveled weeds that Aragorn was holding out for him to take. Aragorn brought the leaves closer to his face and Legolas squinted as the hand blurred into two separate hands that were calmly waiting.

"Hannon-le." Legolas reached out gingerly. He went for the wrong hand the first time and Aragorn moved, tucking the leaves into his fingers.

Aragorn hadn't been lying when he said that these leaves tasted awful and Legolas' stomach rolled hard. Gagging, he sent Aragorn a resentful glare.

"Kind of terrible, aren't they?" Aragorn went back to cradling his fingers through Legolas snarled hair, leaning back against the wall. "One time Elrohir gave them to me plain like that and I thought I would never get the taste out of my mouth."

Slowly, it became apparent that Aragorn was right and the sharp, intrusive bite of pain slowly faded to a more manageable level. Legolas relaxed further into the cold ground, feeling the weakness creep in with the absence of pain.

Aragorn hesitated, before holding up his water flask. "I hate to say this, but you need to drink something. Dehydration is part of the cause of your headache." As he saw Legolas' resisting look, he frowned, popping open the stopper. "Not much, just a little. Please, for me..." Legolas opened one eye long enough to look annoyed before accepting a mouthful of the water.

It wasn't long afterward that Legolas' eyelids began to close and a wave of relief washed over him. The dream was ending. A new, and hopefully less painful, dream would replace it when he next opened his eyes. Aragorn had gone back to humming softly and Legolas felt a small pang as he realized that he was going to miss this Aragorn; he had a comforting presence that the others hadn't.

His last waking thought was that he had not seen the butterfly yet.

Aragorn watched Legolas drift into a light sleep and brushed his damp hair off his pallid face. The elf's breathing had evened out from its sharp gasps from before and his eyelids were closed. Shivers still shook his body and Aragorn tucked the cloak in more tightly around his shoulders. Resting his back against the stone wall, he closed his own eyes as a wave of despair swamped him. He had no clue what they were going to do. Legolas was ill, weak, and clearly disoriented and the human doubted that the elf had fully grasped what was happening around him. Legolas was in no condition to be traveling the length that was going to be required, but they didn't have a choice.

The torch flickered and he drew it closer to them, letting its warmth wash over them.

Slowly, time ticked past and a few minutes trickled into more than an hour but Aragorn didn't have it in his heart to awaken Legolas.

It turned out that he didn't have too. From deep in the heart of the tunnels came the resounding echo of a deep scream. Legolas abruptly jerked, his eyes flying open as the sound continued to last and then slowly faded.

"We need to go." Aragorn didn't wait for the elf to reply; he didn't even give him time to get to his feet. Scooping the prince up in his arms, Aragorn fled up the tunnel.

They had been discovered and they only had one way out.

TBC...

**Thanks so much for reading! Any comments that you have would make me very happy, so please review and thank you! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! Thanks for being patient and I am terribly sorry for both the wait and for all the mistakes that are present. This chapter was a struggle for me and I rewrote it more times than I want to count. It's as good as it is going to get. :) That being said, I hope you enjoy and if by chance that you do, feel free to leave a review!**

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

Chapter Six

The scream rang out again, closer this time, and Aragorn swore. The creature was gaining on them.

"What—I don't-" There was stark fear in Legolas' voice but anything else that he had to say was drowned out by a shriek that made their ear-drums ring. Aragorn skidded to a halt, breathing hard. There was nothing they could do, nowhere they could go. They were going to have to stand and make a fight.

"Can you stand?" he asked briskly. Without waiting for an answer, he gently dropped Legolas to his feet.

Legolas swayed, clutching at Aragorn's arm."This can not be," he whispered, his eyes darting around their small confines in confusion. He sagged forward and Aragorn threw out an arm to help balance him.

"We need to make a fire, a big fire," Aragorn declared looking wildly around. They only had seconds before the monster would be upon them.

"This should be different. Why are we still here? We—I should be somewhere different. It's never—never been the same before…" Legolas looked dazedly around, shivering as the temperature rapidly dropped several degrees. His grip on Aragorn's arm tightened as the man moved jerkily around and he tried to keep upright.

Ripping his cloak off, Aragorn began to cut it into long sections. Their breath fogged up in the frozen air and he felt the familiar dregs of fear spear his heart as he untangled Legolas from him and pushed him to lean against the wall.

"Don't move," he ordered as he began to lay the remains of this cloak out in front of them, blocking the tunnel in an attempt to create a barrier. Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Legolas slid to the ground as his legs refused to hold his weight. Grabbing the torch, he held it to the tip of the first section and watched anxiously as it began to shrivel up and turn black. The fire began to lick at its edge before it caught hold and began to eat at the cloak. Moving to the next strip, Aragorn began the same process.

Legolas let out a soft gasp and Aragorn shot a look his direction. The little color in elf's face had drained from it and his eyes had widened in terror. Whirling back around, Aragorn froze as he came face to face with the creature.

The feeble flames were the only thing separating them and Aragorn's breath caught in his chest.

The creature hovered there and Aragorn straightened his back, waiting. The linen began to slowly unfurl from around Its face, revealing the jutting teeth and empty eye sockets. The mouth slid upwards in what looked horribly like a smile.

"This changes nothing," It hissed and the soft voice cut into Aragorn like a knife and he tightened his grip on the torch, trying to stop his hands from trembling. Terror had replaced the blood in his veins and he stood there, unable to move. Black smoke curled into the air and through the haze, Aragorn could see the strands of cloth unraveling from the creature's body. They slithered across the floor and towards the fire. The first piece of linen darted through the flames but the fire seized at it and the creature fell back with a long hiss. The burning linen detached itself from It and drifted to the ground, quickly shivering up in a blackened heap.

"Stay—stay back!" Aragorn's tongue felt leaden and dead in his mouth even as a flicker of courage sparked in his heart. "You can't have us."

The creature gave a high, mocking laugh, looming up in the tunnel. Aragorn lurched back, stumbling slightly as his boots landed on Legolas' arm. Glancing behind him, he saw that Legolas had slumped to the ground and was barely clinging to reality. His eyes at half-mast and cloudy, his breathing heavy. Jerking his eyes back to the creature, he felt like a rock had been dropped into his stomach.

Slithering up to the ceiling, the monster dropped back to the ground past the smoldering fire all the while unraveling the strands of white cloth. They began to pile up on the ground, waiting for their master's command.

"Is it dead? That would be a such a pity," The monster's voice dropped lower and Its black tongue flicked out to swipe along with the sharp teeth. Aragorn jerked back, trying to hide Legolas from view. "Its blood was particularly good, but it might have one good feeding left..." It trailed off, the tongue flicking back out. "And you...you have lived a long life. Your blood will be just as exhilarating."

Aragorn's throat seized up. "No—" he croaked out, "No, we are going to leave here.'

The creature let out a short scream.

"Leave! No, you will never leave." Its mouth lifted up in into a smirk and white linen shot towards him, attaching themselves around Aragorn's wrist and jerked his arms down to his side. The torch clattered to the ground as Aragorn's sluggishly tried to grasp them but all that escaped him was a squeak of fear. The material was cold, colder than he could have imagined. The creature flung him forcefully to the side and Aragorn's head hit the wall with a crack. Laying there, he blinked black spots from his vision as he struggled to remain conscious. Darkness enveloped him but a brief moment and when his vision returned the monster had glided over to where Legolas lay prostrate.

The torch lay on its side, flickering dangerously. It went out a moment later, leaving them in the dim light cast by the quickly fading fire that Aragorn had stared earlier. It's spluttering light illuminated the creature hovering over the still elf, ready to sink its teeth into soft flesh.

"No!" Aragorn struggled to get up, shaking limp remains of linen off of his body. The torch was only a few feet away, still smoking, and he dived for it. His fingers closed around the hot wood and he jerked his hand back with a muted curse, grabbing the correct end of the torch instead. A horrible, sucking nose had filled the cavern but Aragorn didn't dare look.

Lunging forward, he thrust the torch into the flickering flames of the burned cloak. The wood sizzled hesitantly before the flames caught hold of the tar and snapped back into life. Spinning around, Aragorn held the torch high.

The creature was swelling before his eyes, ballooning as It sucked the elf's life force from his body. The linen began to brighten, floating in a swirling mass around It. Legolas' whole body bucked jerkily.

"Go back to the shadows," Aragorn hissed, tightening his grip on the now flaming torch. Swinging it back as if it was his sword, Aragorn leaped forward and plunged the flaming piece of wood straight down into the creature's unprotected back.

The scream that followed was deafening. The torch it appeared, had struck something more than just cloth and Aragorn pulled back on the piece of wood triumphantly. The creature squealed, it's body contorting around the flames that were consuming the dry cloth. Engorging itself to three times its size, the creature flayed in terror, trying to escape the hungry flames. Strands of cloth were flying forcefully in all directions and didn't have time to duck several slammed into his chest. For the second time that day Aragorn was flung back, hitting the wall with a clear thud.

Blinking back stars, he watched as the monster took flight back down the long tunnel, leaving a trail of thick smoke behind. Flinging his hands up to cover his ears in a vain attempt to block out the ungodly screaming, he felt the heat of fire against his face. It was only then that he noticed the flames licking up the sleeves of his coat. Dropping to the ground, he rolled over and over until the flames were smothered.

Disregarded linen was burning all around them and he coughed harshly as smoke filled the tunnel.

"Legolas? Legolas?!" Covering his face with his shirt, he looked around through watering and stinging eyes for the elf. More flames were dancing brightly in the corner and Aragorn forced his way that direction. Legolas lay in a heap as bright yellow flames danced upon his ruined clothing, eating up the cloth hungrily. Seizing the prince urgently, Aragorn rolled him over in the dirty roughly until the flames had died. The strong smell of charred hair filled his nose and he coughed harshly.

Grabbing Legolas' limp arm, Aragorn forced him over his shoulder and straightened. They had to move, to get away from the smoke and the fire. Coughing raggedly, the man forced his way forward and towards fresh air.

Somewhere in the distance, he could still hear the creature's wails of pain. So it wasn't dead yet...

Wishing it a speedy demise, Aragorn forced his body through the tunnel until the air cleared and he was able to breathe without coughing. Slowing, he pricked his ears and listened. He could hear nothing besides his wheezing breathes and he dropped to his knees. Letting Legolas slide off his back, he sunk tiredly to the ground, breathing in lungful after lungful of musty, stale air that had never seemed fresher.

Legolas' made no movement and Aragorn reached out a hand, covering his mouth and nose briefly to ensure that he was still breathing. He was and Aragorn felt relief flood his system. They were alive! They might just survive this adventure after all...

Rolling over, Aragorn dragged his tired body closer to Legolas. The elf's eyes were closed, his face deathly pale, as the thick scent of iron began to penetrate the air. Blood was dripping freely from his shoulder, staining the ground a dark red.

"Legolas?" Shaking Legolas' good shoulder roughly, he received no response besides Legolas' head lolling limply with the movement. Moving quickly, Aragorn repressed several coughs as he tore through his pack for more bandages. Gingerly pulling back the shredded remains of Legolas' clothes, he grimaced at the mass of torn flesh and blood.

Perhaps stabbing the monster while It had Its teeth in Legolas hadn't been the wisest of an idea, Aragorn thought ruefully. One of the razor-sharp teeth was still embedded in the elf's skin and Aragorn worked it free with a wince. Packing the wound swiftly with bandages, he applied direct pressure. Within minutes, the bandages were soaked through. Lips forming a tight line, he sifted through his bag and pulled free a small bottle. Pulling out the stopper with his teeth, he pried Legolas' mouth open and placed several drops under his tongue. Packing the wounds once again, he waited anxiously until the bleeding seemed to slow.

Finally, exhausted and spent, Aragorn sat back against the wall. His own arm was stinging and he could see red, singed, flesh through a hole in his tunic. Splashing a few more drops of precious water onto it, he gritted his teeth as the pain intensified. Leaning into the cool stone, Aragorn closed his eyes and ran a hand over his dirty face.

He sat there, listening for any sound out of the norm, before allowing himself to sleep.

NoWayOut

Aragorn drifted in a light slumber, one hand loosely wrapped around Legolas' wrist, for almost an hour. It wasn't until the elf shifted, letting out a low moan, that he jerked awake. Rising to a crouch, he looked around with wide and wary eyes as he listened intently, one hand gripping his knife.

Everything was eerily silent but he relaxed only slightly as he turned to Legolas. The elf's eyelids fluttered, his hands drifting up to his shoulder. Aragorn stifled a weary yawn, catching Legolas' hand gently in his and restricting further movement.

"I would not touch that," he murmured. Blood was spotting through the bandages and Aragorn narrowed his eyes. He was going to have to keep a close eye on that. Legolas groaned, his eyes fighting to open all the way.

"Where am I?" Legolas asked hoarsely as he squinted up at Aragorn.

Aragorn freed his water flask from around his belt and wrapping Legolas' hand around it. "Drink," he ordered, "and we are still in the cave, remember?" Legolas' eyes tracked Aragorn's every movement. Aragorn was silent, letting the elf regain his bearings as he fussed with the bandages, pulling them tighter.

"Why am I still in this place? Why will not it go away like everything else?"

Aragorn hesitated, before squeezing his hand. "As soon as you feel up to walking a little further, we will be leaving," he tried to assure him.

"No," Legolas grunted, freeing his hand from Aragorn to press tiredly against his eyes. His face screwed up. "Why am I still in this Valar-cursed dream? Why won't it go away?"

Aragorn pursed his lip, giving the elf a searching look. "You are not dreaming, Legolas," he said seriously.

"That's what they all say."

"This is no dream," Aragorn reinforced, but Legolas brushed it aside angrily as he forced himself to sit up. Aragorn made a grab for his arm, keeping him upright. "Legolas, I'm serious. What are you going on about?"

"Oh, don't give me that! You know exactly what I am talking about." Legolas' glare was hot as he rubbed at his forehead vehemently. "And where in the name of the Valar, is that thrice-cursed butterfly!"

"No, no I really don't know." Aragorn reached out a hand to test the elf's temperature but Legolas slapped it away. "Come on, Legolas. I do not even have the slightest idea of what you are talking about or about any," he had to stifle a small chuckle simply over the absurdity of it, "butterflies."

He instantly regretted it as Legolas turned his glare on the human.

"Oh, keep all your secrets, then."

"There are no secrets, Legolas. This isn't a dream," Aragorn tried again, but Legolas was refusing to look at him. He fell silent, watching Legolas worriedly. "Why do you think this is a dream?"

Legolas pressed his lips together. His shoulder was throbbing with an intensity that made his pounding headache dim in comparison. Nothing made sense anymore and his brain was struggling to bring it all together. He would be lying if he said that this felt like the other dreams, but...it couldn't be real. If it was real... he peaked out in-between his fingers at Aragorn. The man was gnawing at his lower lip, watching him intently.

"Legolas?" he prompted and the elf looked away again. "Legolas, why do you think this is a dream. What about a butterfly?"

When Legolas only shrugged, looking torn, Aragorn didn't press the matter. Smiling stiffly, he stood. "We should leave," he whispered and Legolas nodded once. Tucking Legolas' good arm around his shoulder, Aragorn stood slowly. Legolas clutched tiredly to Aragorn's shirt, feeling the familiar waves of dizziness swamp his senses.

Aragorn started walking and Legolas followed limply along. Every movement sent an unwelcome jolt of agony along his body and he closed his eyes. He just wanted to leave this all behind and slip back into sleep, but Aragorn wouldn't let him. Griping him tightly by the arm, the man kept up a steady stream of light chatter as he forced him to keep moving his legs.

Legolas paid it no heed. A tight ball of anxiety was forming in the pit of his stomach the longer they walked and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that something was wrong. His palms began to sweat and a cold shiver went through his body.

Aragorn shifted, pressing closer to him and Legolas reached out with his other hand to help him balance. His hand instantly touched the cool, rough, rock and his eyes popped open. Turning to look at Aragorn, Legolas reeled as he realized that the walls were practically crushing them together. Aragorn had turned sideways to be able to fit in the small space next to Legolas and his head was brushing against the ceiling.

Legolas felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs as he stopped short. All around him was stone, stone that was closing in on him. Aragorn was saying something, his face twisted into a cajoling expression but all Legolas could see was the neverending mass of rock trapping him in a place that was suddenly much too small.

TBC...

**Well, we have at last reached the long-awaited small tunnels. **

**Thanks for reading! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hello my wonderful peeps! Long *long* time no see. I know. I am a terrible human being and life just...life just got a little crazy. Can't promise that I won't happen again but I hope to have the rest up and posted soon. On the flip side, this probably won't be as polished or edited as much as usual because I'm trying to finish this story before summer hits. Not that my stories are always super polished. Haha... *healthy dose of tears and laughter* I love each review that you gave me and, for those who gently prodded me to continue, this is for you. I needed that extra nudge. I love you all!**

**Good luck remember where we left off! **

**Not mine. **

Chapter Seven

Legolas refused to move another step.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, caught off guard by the sudden lack of movement. He had to shuffle around to be able to face the elf and Legolas wondered how he could have been so naïve, how he could not have noticed the walls growing ever closer around them? The walls used to be thick enough to let them easily wake side by side, but now…

Aragorn held the torch high, lightening their faces with the eerie orange glow.

"The walls, they are getting narrower." Legolas shuddered, his good hand coming up to clench at Aragorn's forearm. The small smile slipped off Aragorn's face and he sighed.

"I know," he confessed as he squeezed Legolas' arm in return, stepping closer to him. "I'm sorry, Legolas, I know—I know that this isn't easy but we can't stay here. This is the only way out and staying here really isn't an option.

Legolas shook his head jerkily, sending spikes of pain through his skull. Ripping his arm free, he staggered back, bracing himself up against the wall. He wasn't going any further, he wasn't going to enter this trap. His whole body felt numb and he could no longer feel his feet.

"No!" he exclaimed forcefully. It echoed around them and they both listened to his declaration repeat itself. Aragorn blew out a steady breath, washing a hand tiredly down his face.

"Yes, Legolas. There is no other way out so unless you want to spend the rest of your immortal life down here—" he trailed off, not feeling the need to finish the sentence. He reached out to take the elf's arm again but Legolas pulled back.

He wasn't going a step further. He was _not _going to go down that tunnel.

"This is—this is all just some big—stupid, I'm just going to wake up—change dreams," he stumbled over his words, unsure of what he even was saying. They had reached the point of no return and his arm was aching worse than ever as he forced it up toward Aragorn off. He just had to wait, wait for the all agonizing pain to strike and tear him into darkness and to another dream. Only, that hadn't worked last time. Last time he had woken up still here, still in these terrible tunnels.

Aragorn captured his hand, pulling him closer.

"The only way out is up that tunnel." He pointed behind him, trying his hardest not to sound impatient. Legolas stared back up at him, and wide eyes reflecting the torchlight. He staggered and Aragorn moved forward, his other hand outstretched and ready to catch the prince if needed.

"No, this isn't real. _This_ isn't real," Legolas mumbled under his breath, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to shrug free of Aragorn's grip.

"Yes, yes this is real, _Mellon-nin_. I don't know what you think is happening, but _this is real_." Aragorn wouldn't let Legolas go, moving closer and narrowing the gap between them. "There is no dream that you can escape too…nothing could be more real."

"No, no, no…"

Aragorn pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not know how to convince Legolas that this was all real, that this wasn't a dream…they really didn't have time for this. Sticking the torch in the ground, Aragorn captured Legolas' face in-between both of his hands. Forcing his head around, Aragorn stared deep into the brilliant blue eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

Legolas stopped mid-ramble, his breathing heavy as his eyes searched Aragorn's.

"I trust Estel," he whispered.

"Legolas, do you trust _me_?"

It took Legolas longer to respond to that but at last, with what looked like suspiciously red eyes, all he could manage was a weary, "I don't know." He wanted too. He wanted to be able to trust this Estel, to believe all that the man was telling him and that he was awake. That he had escaped the nightmare, but he meant acknowledging that the was living in one.

The stone loomed over him, ever threatening and ever cold. No sounds of nature filtered through its invincible sheet of terror and darkness. There was no light and no life. It was crushing and his knees gave way underneath the weight. Aragorn's hands tightened around his face, forcing him to focus on him.

"It's_ me_, Legolas. The real Estel and not some imagined being. Trust me, trust…" he trailed off pitifully, unsure of what else he could say to his friend. If all else failed he would simply toss the elf over his shoulder, but in the end that might cause more harm than good. Sighing, he bowed his head forward until their brows were touching. He could feel Legolas' breaths, could feel the rapid beat of his heart, could feel the way that he was trembling with weariness.

Taking one of Legolas' hands, he pressed it against his own chest and allowed the elf to feel the beating of his own heart.

"I can't fake this, a dream could not fake this," he said desperately, his hand tightening around the elf's. Legolas blinked rapidly, trying to think past the overwhelming ache in his head and body. Aragorn's heartbeat was steady against his palm as the man's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm compared to his own sharp gaps. It was like a rock or even a tree. in the midst of the storm. Glancing up, he could see Aragorn's lips were pressed together into a thin, desperate line.

"Legolas, _it's me_." The voice was so…human, both pleading and strong all at once; a voice that could command armies or lure in a frightened animal. Aragorn tightened his grip, blocking out of the overwhelming weight of the stone.

"Estel…" The whisper was soft enough that any normal human might have missed it, but Aragorn heard it. "Estel, is that—"

"It's me, you're not dreaming," Aragorn was quick to assure. A wave of relief crashed over Legolas and he couldn't help the small sob that escaped him. His legs crumpled out from beneath him and Aragorn latched onto his elbow, keeping him from sinking entirely to the floor.

They sat there a way for a long time as Legolas tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Aragorn was truly sitting next to him and that he was trapped miles beneath the ground in a cave. He was broken from his thoughts when he felt the lightweight of a cloak being draped over his shoulder. Looking around he found Aragorn crouched next to him with a decidedly worried air.

"You're trembling," Aragorn explained nodding at the cloak. A hesitant smile crept upon his face as Legolas accepted the offering.

Legolas continued to stare at the human. "I'm sorry. I am so—I honestly thought that I had wandered in dreams. I don't understand what happened, Estel?"

"Hush, do not worry," Aragorn earnestly replied, giving him a small smile. "I don't know everything myself, though I think I have pieced together a good chunk of it." Moving to sit next to the elf, he stretched his legs out and turned to watch his friend carefully.

For the next several minutes Aragorn explained it all, how Alton had abducted the elf, how Thranduil was looking in the South but Aragorn had followed his hunch. It all came out and Legolas sat in dumbfounded silence.

"I owe you my life once again, _Mellon-nin_," Legolas said at long las looking a little overwhelmed.

"I'm fairly positive that I am paying back a debt to you." Aragorn nudged Legolas' shoulder lightly. Legolas smiled.

"I guess we have lost count of whose turns it is to save whom."

"I guess we have, _Mellon-nin_, I guess we have."

Aragorn let them sit there for a few more minutes before clambering back to his feet. He glanced back behind him at the narrowing passageway and back down to the elf.

"If you say that I must go forward, then I will." Legolas raised his head, locking eyes with Aragorn, and almost begging him to say that he didn't have too. The look of sorrow in the grey eyes was enough and Legolas clenched his eyes shut in frustration before reaching out. Aragorn took his outstretched hand and easily hoisted the elf to his feet.

Legolas almost caught the hiss of pain.

"Is it your head or shoulder?" Aragorn asked as he ducked under the prince's lax arm and wound his own around Legolas' back.

"My whole body," Legolas replied with a tight smile. He didn't mention that his shoulder, while once painless, was giving his headache a run for its money.

They continued on, the walls closing in around them and sloping upwards to meet with the ceiling until they were hunched over and squashed in side by side like sardines in a can.

"I'll follow you," Legolas suggested when they could not take another step forward as they were. His hands were starting to sweat and his heart was pounding an uneven rhythm in his chest. Aragorn instantly shook his head.

"And be constantly checking over my shoulder to make sure that you are still behind me and not unconscious on the ground? No, I think not. You are going in front of me." And with that, Aragorn gently untangled himself for Legolas.

Legolas half-turned, his body wavering without the additional support. He might have fallen to his knees if Aragorn wasn't there to hold him upright with one hand bracing his shoulder.

Legolas shook his head, refusing to meet the human's eyes but the pleading tone in his voice clear.

"Estel, go first," he demanded in a voice pitched higher than normal. Aragorn shook his head firmly.

"I'm not going to lie, Legolas. It's…it's going to get tight but what happens then if you pass out? Huh, what then? I can't drag you with my feet, but I could shove you forward if called upon."

Legolas' eyes were wide as he glanced back into the looming darkness. Wearily, he shoved Aragorn's hands off and slunk down to his knees. What was the point in remaining upright? They would have to crawl in a minute anyway.

He started to move forward but balked. "Estel, I can't," he whispered still refusing to meet the human's gaze. Aragorn's hand found his shoulder.

"I'll be right behind you, I promise. If there was any other way out, I would have taken it."

Swallowing back the rancid fear that filled the back of his throat, Legolas took several deep breaths in an attempt to ease the knots that had formed in his stomach. It didn't work, but all the same, he eased himself forward.

Aragorn followed close behind.

The slope increased as the walls narrowed until Legolas felt like all the air was being squeezed from his lungs. It was as if invisible hands were pressing against his already aching chest and sides and forcing all the air out. Licking his dry lips, Legolas couldn't help the way that his heart pounded. He could hardly draw in each raspy breathe and found himself caught in spiraling dizziness that turned the world upside down.

Aragorn shuffled along just behind him, murmuring soft words of encouragement, not that it helped much. The torchlight, on the other hand, did. Its flickering light was a comfort and a source of undefeated strength amongst the darkness that threatened to destroy him.

The walls squeezed in ever closer, forcing him to hunch over onto his knees as his head began to brush the wall.

"This—this is as tight as it gets, right?" he managed to squeak out in a gulp of air. Aragorn took too long responding and Legolas froze. "Tell me that this is it?"

"Just keep going," Aragorn whispered, reaching up and squeezing the prince's ankle.

"But—" The horrible thought had just dawned on Legolas that if it got any tighter then the torch was going to have to be put out. His stomach rolled hard as the already tight walls swarmed in around him, pressing against every inch of his body.

Forcing his limbs to move, Legolas kept his eyes closed as if that would somehow help. It did until he cracked his head against a ledge. The already sparking headache flared up and he swore loudly. Forcing his body under the ledge, he found himself on his belly with barely a hair's breadth of room between him and the stone in all directions. The mass of rock was most assuredly going to crush him.

Aragorn hesitated before entering the rocky coffin. "I can't carry the torch in there," he confessed. Legolas didn't save the breath to answer and pulled himself forward. If he wasn't for the sounds coming from behind him then he would have thought himself all alone.

The deeper he shimmed in, the more it felt like he was drowning, drowning on dry land. Aragorn's voice faded to the background as the darkness crept into him, leaving him reeling.

"Keep…it…better, I….moving," Aragorn's words were muffled and he could hardly hear him but on instinct Legolas obeyed. Using his elbows he forced his numb body to move forward. The smell of stone and mold was strong with his nose mere inches away from the earth. Feeling ahead with his fingers, he felt the pathway turn sharply.

Scooting ahead, he got his upper body into the hole and realized abruptly that he was not going to fit. His body was simply not made to fit through a hole that size and he was going to be stuck here until he died of starvation or dehydration. Freezing, he thought about trying to turn back but there was no possible way of twisting his body in that direction. There was no way out.

A whole mountain was lying on top of him. He was going to die beneath a mountain.

His heart thumped madly in his chest and sweat began to drip into his eyes. His already fought for gasps of air seized and Legolas found himself pushing out air faster than he could take it in. If he wasn't already laying down, Legolas was sure that he would have ended up on the floor in a heap and curled up in a small ball.

Behind him, Aragon came to a halt. He couldn't see Legolas in the pitch blackness but if the sound of the elf's wheezing was indication than he had stopped moving. When his hands touched Legolas' unmoving boots, he squeezed the prince's ankle firmly.

"Legolas?" He called loudly. "Legolas, I need you to answer me." He lifted his head, but it connected sharply with the ceiling. Wincing, he attempted to squeeze in closer.

"We are so close, I promise you. Just keep moving forward…" he trailed off feeling completely unsure of how to help his friend for the second time that day. Legolas' sharp breathes were loud in the silence and Aragorn mutely pleaded for him to calm down before he hyperventilated. Lowering his head, he rested it against the prince's legs.

"I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen," he said aloud. "You are not alone, I promise you."

Legolas's breathing cut off entirely as his heart continued to pound treacherously. He could feel the sweat pooling across his whole body as he jerked and twisted, trying desperately to find his way through the bend. He had to get out of here, he had to go forward but he couldn't get his body to actually go that direction.

Distantly, he could hear Aragorn's voice. Opening his mouth to tell the man that he was going to die here, he stumbled on the words. His lungs caught and blackness swallowed him whole.

Maybe he passed out. Maybe he didn't. Whatever had happened, when Legolas roused himself he found his airways beginning to open up. No longer feeling like he was about to die, he tentatively took a deep breath. There was a heavyweight pressed against his legs and Legolas could only imagine that it was Aragorn.

Shame flowed through his body and Legolas rolled his head forward into the cool stone. Laying there for several moments, he attempted to compose himself before Aragorn could make a big deal out of it.

Aragorn shifted and Legolas looked away even though there was no way for the man to see his face flush red. "I swear that we are almost out of this tunnel." Aragorn's whisper carried easily in the small space and Legolas nodded shakily.

Filling his lungs with musty air, Legolas reached forward with his hands for anything that could pull him through. He still wasn't going to fit and his breathing faltered.

"I got through there earlier. You won't get stuck." Aragorn's voice was back, a deep comfort in the endless blackness. Forcing himself to breathe, Legolas gripped a protruding rock with both hands and wiggled forward. Curving his body to fit the small dimensions, he inched along until at least his legs slide free of the bend.

Aragorn grunted behind him and the sudden vision of himself dead and blocking the path upwards and thus killing Aragorn as well flooded into his mind.

"Have you ever been to Bree?" Aragorn's question caught Legolas off-guard but it distracted him from the thoughts of both of them dying down here. Thinking hard, he tried to recall the name. Aragorn nudged his foot gently and he pressed onward.

"No," he said sharply.

"Remind me to take you there sometime. It doesn't surprise me that you don't know about it though. Most people don't. It's this small village, but it is on the road that leads to the Grey Havens."

"What, are you trying to be rid of me now? You want me to sail?" Legolas forced out the humor in a hoarse voice as he felt rock scraping against his back.

Aragorn snorted. "I was using it as a point of reference, your majesty."

"Oh, do please go on, _your Lordship_," Legolas returned. His voice cracked and he cursed the tell-tale sign.

"Shut up, I'm talking." Aragorn sounded out of breath and his words came out in a grunt. There was a sound like that of tearing fabric and Legolas felt light-headed. Aragorn was larger than he was, and he had just barely slipped through. What if—

'Don't you dare throw up! I have to follow right after you!"

Legolas jumped, scrambling to move forward and allow the man more room. He waited anxiously for the sounds of Aragorn moving forward and flinched as he heard Aragorn's coat tear further.

However, when Aragorn spoke he sounded as light-hearted as if they were in Imladris with the twins. "Anyway, in Bree, there is this old man. Butterbur. Talks a mile a minute and forgets everything. He might even forget his own head if it wasn't attached to his shoulder, but Gandalf is good friends with him." He paused for a moment. "Where I was going with this? I for—Oh, you and Butterbur would get along well. He thinks that I'm just a greasy old ranger much like you do."

"You do the greasy part by yourself and when I have I ever referred to you as just an 'old ranger'?" Legolas dug his fingers into the earth, forcing his body forward. Aragorn didn't answer immediately and Legolas stopped moving as his heart started to pound again.

"Sorry!" Aragorn quickly stated. "I was thinking. You never refer to me as 'old' ranger, but 'ranger' yes. Oh, and let's not forget 'young' ranger. Very young according to you."

"Well, do you want me to expound on that?" Legolas asked.

"Not really."

"That's what I thought."

The dark tunnel seemed to drag on forever as it headed progressively upwards. Aragorn kept up the constant stream of chatter as Legolas found himself slowing down, exhaustion and pain pulling at every move he made. At long last, the stone walls seemed to be loosening their grip on them and the two friends went from sliding forward on their bellies to crawling.

At long last, Legolas staggered to his feet and was able to rise without hitting his head. A moment later relief swamped him and he found himself in heap on the ground again with his face pressed into the thin layer of dirt. He didn't care. He didn't have the energy to care.

"Hold on," Aragorn was suddenly right next to him, another sign that they had truly escaped. "Hold on, let me just light the torch. Give me a second." Bright light blossomed in the corner of his eyes and Aragorn was back as the weight of hand pressed firmly against the middle of Legolas' back.

Legolas nodded once as he simply breathed in the slightly less musty air. Aragorn didn't say anything else and Legolas could not have been more grateful.

When at last he did role over, Aragorn greeted him with a smile, his face wreathed in light. The torch flickered jauntily, splitting through the darkness and reaching into the far corners.

"I'm alright," Legolas insisted, putting a hand out to push himself up.

"Look at me, Legolas." It was a direct order but Legolas shook his head once, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face and shield him. The man heaved a sigh, scooting closer. A hand caught his chin, but Legolas resisted, pulling away.

"I'm fine." Glancing through the curtain of his hair, Legolas saw the man staring at him, looking at a loss for words. "Or I'll be alright." Aragorn scoffed lightly, the lines of concern not leaving his face.

TBC...

**Welp. It is what it is, my friends! Look for another update soon and toss a review my way if you feel so inclined to do so. If not, that's chill too. I'm totally sorry if this is crap but oh well. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Once again, I'm so sorry for all the mistakes and if this all seems rushed...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS! They mean the world to me. :) :) **

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Eight

"I'm alright," Legolas insisted, putting a hand out to push himself up as he drunk in the sight of the brightly burning torch.

"Look at me, Legolas." It was a direct order, but Legolas shook his head once, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face and shield him. Aragorn heaved a sigh, scooting closer. A hand caught his chin, but Legolas resisted, pulling away.

"I'm fine." Glancing through the curtain of his hair, Legolas saw the man staring at him, looking at a loss for words. "Or I'll be alright." Aragorn scoffed lightly, the lines of concern not leaving his face.

"We rest here for a moment," he declared as he got to his feet, half dragging half helping the elf over to the wall. "Sit here and put your head in-between your knees should you feel the need to pass out again."

"I know the drill," Legolas muttered, accepting the waterskin that Aragorn pressed into his hands.

"Oh, and you should probably eat something as well. I don't even want to know how long it has been since you have had anything of substance." The man began to rummage through his bag, searching into the depths for the hunk of bread or a slab of dried meat that was there. "But that probably isn't helping with the…." He trailed off and Legolas appreciated that the man was kind enough not right out mention the uncontrollable tremors that were coursing through his body.

The lid on the waterskin rattled as he held it tightly and he could feel his cheeks coloring.

"Hannon-le." Legolas' voice as almost as shaky as his hands and he turned away before the man could nail him a penetrating stare. Making no move to drink the water, he braced it with both hands as he bowed his head to rest against his knees. All he really wanted to do was sleep…

"Here." Aragorn was back, holding out a few strips of dried meat. "And there is more if you want it. I'm sorry that I didn't think to give you any earlier." Legolas didn't take them, looking away wearily.

"I'm not hungry." He pressed his head further against his knees as Aragorn protested, pushing the food closer. "Not here, after we leave this place I will eat." Gripping the waterskin tight with both hands, he attempted to pass it back to Aragorn. The man wrapped his hands around Legolas' and the light clattering stopped.

"Alright, you don't have to eat anything, but I'm not backing down on the drinking. You need to drink something, anything." His gaze was steady and his tone firm. The please that he tacked onto the end was an afterthought and a mere formality as he pushed the skin back into Legolas' lap.

Legolas accepted it unsteadily and the flask once again began to rattle as he lifted it to his lips. Tipping his head back, a flash of pain erupted behind his eyes. Forcing the swallow down, he blinked rapidly to restore his vision, trying hard not to wince.

Aragorn waited for him to take several more swallows before pressing a hand against the back of his head and pressing it gently down in-between his knees. They were silent for several long minutes and Legolas had almost drifted off to sleep when the human spoke.

"I don't think that it's that much further to the exit of the cave." The unasked question of if Legolas thought he would be able to make it hung in the air and Legolas examined his hands, unsure of what to say.

"Was that bit back there the worst of it?"

Aragorn's hesitation was answer enough and Legolas felt the familiar dregs of fear catch and knot in his stomach.

"There is one more stretch like unto it," Aragorn finally answered slowly before rushing to expound. "But it isn't as long as the other one. The worst is truly behind us now."

Silence reigned supreme as Legolas stared down at his hands, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

"I—I don't think I can do it," he finally whispered, still staring at his dirty palms. "Aragorn, _I can't_." The man blew out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

"Yes, yes you can. I've seen you face down impossible odds. I've seen you _defeat_ impossible odds." He inched closer, shaking his dirty hair out of his face. "Look at me," he demanded. Legolas didn't respond, hunching up in a small ball.

The mere thought of going back into such a small, dark, space was making Legolas' heart pound painfully against his ribs and his vision blurred from unshed tears. He couldn't go back in a tunnel-like that again, even if he wanted too. Fear boiled in his stomach and he clenched his fist tightly. He couldn't do it. It was not that he didn't want too, he did, but he highly doubted he would make his body move.

Aragorn simply didn't understand.

"Legolas…" The man's tone was tired and Legolas braced himself for the accusations and questions that were sure to come. Why he should be able to do it, after all, it was only a hole and some stone walls. It wasn't an orc army or a spider's nest that he was facing by himself, it wasn't even the creature that had built the tunnels. It was just that, a tunnel. A small, confined space and Legolas couldn't face it.

Aragorn paused, seemingly trying to come up with words and Legolas sat stock-still, waiting.

"Legolas, I'm sorry but you are going to have too." The man's voice wasn't harsh but rather soft and quiet. Regret was there as well as something that sounded a lot like sadness. The lack of anger or confusion only made Legolas feel worse if that was possible, and he hung his head in shame.

This was so stupid. He should be able to do this. He should be able to face this head-on and simply get the job done. Pulling in a shaky breath, he silently berated himself. Aragorn's arm came to rest around his shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"Come on, it will be fine. I'll help you."

Legolas would have pulled away if he had the energy and he blew out all the air in his lugs, his fingers dancing nervously along his arms as he looked anywhere but at Aragorn. The man didn't understand. Legolas _couldn't _do it. Aragorn offered himself another squeeze before clambering to his feet and extending a hand down.

"Everything will be fine. I swear to you on my life, it will be fine. Trust me."

Legolas honestly thought that he was about to throw up as an acid taste filled back of his mouth. Already he could feel the darkness coming down to crash, feel the walls closing in.

"I'm not strong like you, Estel." The words were out of his mouth before he could pull them back and they hung there, suspended between them. Aragorn looked around at the small stone cavern they were resting in before crouching down next to Legolas.

"We can sit here and talk if you want. We can sit here and debate who is 'stronger'," Aragorn said the word as if it was something offensive, his tone crawling with irritation, "simply because I do not share the same fears you do and vice versa. I do not see you hiding like a coward from an old title, but that is neither here nor there. None of that is going to get you out. You are going to have to face it before you can leave this place."

Legolas finally turned to look at him. Aragorn's eyes were steady and true, but the fear was still holding him in place. The man smiled at him and there was no hate there. Only love. Blinking back the rapid tears that were threatening to slip down his face, Legolas blew out an unsteady breath before jerkily nodding his head.

Hesitantly he reached out, taking the man's rough and calloused hand. Aragorn pulled him gently to his feet and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, tucking him in close.

"I wasn't lying when I said that you had made it through the worst. It's going to be tight, but it won't be for near as long as it was before" Aragorn said lightly as he ducked to grab his pack and the torch.

"Are you trying to get me to stay behind?" Legolas stuttered on the words, fear making his tongue numb. Aragorn laughed, pulling him closer.

"Never, my dear friend, never."

With the torch lightening their path, they moved steadily forward with Legolas leaning against him more than either of them wanted to admit. Abruptly, the size of the walls decreased dramatically until only a small opening remained.

Legolas stumbled to a stop, his breathing coming in short gaps. "Estel, I—" Stopping, he licked his dry lips, trying to find some moisture to wet his tongue. "I—" His words were sticking in his throat and he could feel the sweat building across his body.

Aragorn reached down, finding his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. The torch was once again extinguished and Legolas found himself clenching to the only solid thing he could find. Guiding him, Aragorn dropped down onto his knees and the elf followed.

"It's not far," Aragorn promised, giving Legolas' hand one last squeeze before letting go. Legolas couldn't return the pressure as he knelt there, petrified. "You are going to pass through this and into the sunlight. Just imagine being in the sunlight and feeling the wind. Picture the trees and the flowers..." Aragorn's tone was desperate and Legolas inched forward, his fingers finding the entrance. Dark, musty air filled his lungs and he fought the urge to throw up.

"Aragorn," his voice cracked on the one word and he had was forced to suck in several deep breaths. "Could you—could you go first just…?" He almost wasn't able to finish the sentence and he was sure that the shame he felt was enough to light the darkness around them.

Aragorn hesitated as Legolas pulled back. "I don't know if that is such a good idea."

"No, Aragorn, _please_, just go first." The air of despair in his voice was all too real and Aragorn caved. Giving the elf a reassuring touch on the arm, the man pushed past him and into the tunnel's opening.

Then Legolas was left truly alone. Breathing deeply, Legolas puffed out his cheeks. He had to move, had to follow Aragorn. The man had stopped moving just a few feet in and was clearly waiting for the elf to follow. Digging his fingers into the cool earth, Legolas dragged his body into the hole. Instantly the stone was bearing over him, weighing down one him and swamping even the will to leave.

Aragorn scooted forward and the rustle of it was strangely comforting as they were once again forced onto their bellies.

"Legolas?" There was fear in Aragorn's voice and it irked Legolas.

"I'm here," he snapped. The dirt was sticking to his sweat-soaked skin and his heart had once again begun to its treacherous pounding that made him want to gag or die. He wasn't sure which. Aragorn was prattling on for what seemed to be an age to the elf until at long last he could go no further.

"Aragorn…" the words were loud in the dark and Aragorn stopped his chatter. Collapsing flat on the earth with his cheek pressed against the stone, Legolas admitted the momentary defeat. "Estel, I can't go on. Go ahead, I'll catch back up."

Aragorn scoffed loudly and they listened to the reverberation of it for several minutes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Legolas didn't fight it as he was sure that he would have been saying the exact same thing had the situation been reversed. Closing his eyes tiredly, he tried to catch his breath.

A cold breeze filtered up towards them and Legolas shivered. Something shifted behind them and Legolas slowly turned his head direction with sudden terror. There was a low hissing and the temperature dropped even lower as Legolas' heart started to race without warning. It physically hurt and he wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

"Estel!" His voice was sharp with warning but Aragorn had felt it too as he started to scramble forward. The cold penetrated them to the very bone as fear pierced their hearts. The high, chilling laugh sounded right on their heels, magnified by the narrow walls. He couldn't hear Aragorn moving and he wondered if it was a trick of the creature or if the man had left him behind.

Cursing, he struggled forward.

Something cold wrapped around his ankle and Legolas slowly turned to look back and his heart stopped. There, right behind him, was a creature so dreadful that he didn't have words to describe it. Its empty sockets stared at him as it's mouth gapped open.

Legolas couldn't move. He couldn't scream. He couldn't do anything.

The creature laugh and the chilling sound penetrated his very being. "Your life, your blood…your soul, it's mine." The words reverberated in Legolas' ears and his certain death flashed before his eyes. If this creature could have smiled, it would have and Legolas watched with numbing horror as the white linen began to unravel from the creature. It slithered towards him and began to wind around his feet.

"No!" The words surprised even Legolas as he jerked back. He met the creature's dark stare with one of his own. "No," he repeated just as firmly. His limbs unfroze and he dug his fingers into the earth, forcing his body forward.

The creature's shriek tore through the dark, cutting into his very being, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop moving for if he did, it would mean death.

Up ahead a sudden light flickered into being and Legolas could see the tunnel ending and opening up. Scrambling forward, he cried as he was jerked roughly back. Digging his fingers into the earth, Legolas tried to kick the being off of him, but the bandages were wrapping at a dizzying speed around his legs. They were cinched tight, attempting to pull him down but just as he felt dirt slipping between his fingers a steady hand grabbed his wrist.

Aragorn's wide and panicked eyes started back at him as he wrapped a hand around his wrist and began to yank forcefully backward. Kicking as hard as he could back at the creature, Legolas felt himself sliding free.

Rolling out into the open cavern, Legolas felt hands yanking him upwards and he stumbled to his feet.

"RUN!" It was unneeded advice and they started off. Bolts of cloth shot up from beneath the ground, giving chase as the creature emerged slowly and hideously from the tunnel. There was a gaping hole in its chest and it jerkily floated after them. The pair didn't stop to find out if it could catch them.

The creature's mouth was still working perfectly fine and it let out an earsplitting scream. Legolas slid to a stop, pulling Aragorn down as well as he clamped his good hand over his ears, crying out at the reverberating noise.

"Come on!" Aragorn didn't hesitate and grabbing Legolas around the middle beginning to drag him. "Come on! We are so close!" He cursed helplessly, struggling forward even as the familiar dregs of panic and fear pulled at him. It felt like he was swimming through molasses as he forced himself to move. "So close."

The cavern was opening, leading into the front tunnel and hope sparked in his soul.

The creature's deadly hiss sung out again and Legolas began to buck in his arms, his body protesting. "No!" Aragorn hissed, fumbling for a tighter hold on his friend and shoving him forward. Legolas' eyes rolled in his head as the creature neared them and it's wrappings flew around them, swirling through the air.

Everywhere he looked, all he could see was darkness and Aragorn felt his body slowing to a stop.

There was no point. There was nothing he or Legolas could do about it.

He gazed in heart-pounding-fear as the creature limped nearer, it's body clearly off-centered as it jerked and flinched. Its voice filled his head, laughing at his foolish attempt to escape. At their uselessness. There was no point to even try.

Legolas slipped from his trembling fingers.

The white linen reached out for him, ready to ensnare him forever in their midst and never let him go. Legolas' screams had faded to a distance buzz, Aragorn dimly noticed, as the creature turned its full attention on him.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Yo what's up! Everyone enjoying practicing social distancing? To be completely honest as an introvert I haven't been complaining that much. :) This is our time to shine, my peeps! **

**Also, sorry. I kind of hated this chapter but whatever. It's up and that's what counts, right? **

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

Chapter Nine

The voice was building in Aragorn's head and he dimly recognized that he was the one screaming. The voice became louder and Aragorn folded in on himself, clutching his hands over his ears and trying to drown out the terrible words.

A warm hand wrapped around his arm and Aragorn flinched, glancing down. Legolas was clenching onto him, his eyes wide and desperate as he attempted to tug the man towards the entrance.

For a moment, the creature's pull on Aragorn was broken and he gasped, the pain receding into an echo. It was like coming up to breathe and he lurched forward, latching on Legolas' arm. The entrance of the cave to the outside world was only feet away they just needed to reach the outside, everything would be fine, everything would work out.

Legolas staggered next to him and Aragorn grabbed him roughly by the tunic, hauling him forward. The creature drew breath, ready to start its shrieking whispers again and Aragorn whirled around. Tossing the lighted torch behind him, he was rewarded with a shriek that slipped into by an enraged howl that made his ears ache.

The torch had landed at the edge of the creature's reach and the fire had quickly caught hold. Flames were rapidly spreading, consuming the cloth and sending smoke wafting up into the air.

The monster was serving itself from it as quickly as possible, stands of burning cloth falling to the ground, but Aragorn didn't stay to see what happened. Diving for the entrance, Aragorn could only pray that it was daytime outside.

NOWAYOUT

Legolas sagged slightly against Aragorn as the man gripped his arm, propelling him forward. The little strength he had in reserve had been used to urge Aragorn on and now…now he felt like he was going to throw up or pass out.

Everything was swirling around him in a white blur and he trusted Aragorn completely to guide him in the right direction. The man's hand was pulling at him, forcing him to move and dragging him when his legs stopped working. The creature's voice echoed in his ear faintly before there was a flash of firelight the creature once again began to scream.

Aragorn's hand was like an iron jaw on his arm and then they out into the bright afternoon. The intense light was blinding and Legolas threw his hands up to cover his eyes. Aragorn released him abruptly and he tumbled to the ground when his legs failed to support him.

Closing his eyes, Legolas remained in an ungraceful heap on the ground with his face pressed into the dirt. He could feel the wind on his body, feel the grass beneath his cheek and the air felt clean. Breathing in deeply, he waited for the moment of acceptance that this was real, that he was free and that the creature was dead but that feeling never washed over him. His heart continued to beat like the monster was still after them and the fear washed over him anew. Something was wrong.

Everything was wrong. Opening his eyes, Legolas flinched back when the light blinded him and he gasped, squeezing them shut again. His heartfelt like it was about to burst. Something was wrong. The creature must have done something to him, he was about to die. Everything felt all too real as his senses kicked into overdrive.

The dirt was too close to his face and the grass felt like scratching holes into his skin. His clothes suffocated him, seeming to weigh more than chain main and restricting his breathing. His hearing had been turned up to ten and his own gasps made him want to scream as they threatened to drown out everything else. Aragorn's hands were on him, pawing at him, pulling him around and his voice echoed oddly around everything else. It was too much, it was all too much to handle. He needed to breathe, he needed to break free, he needed not to die, he needed sunlight, he needed air—Legolas could feel his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Aragorn was still hovering close by but he was no longer touching the elf.

Legolas was unsure of how long he laid on the ground feeling as if he might die. Slowly, his heart stopped pounding, and everything began to fade back to normal.

He was still lying with his face in the dirt and it was cool against his sweaty face. Breathing it in, he filled his lungs with the smell of fresh dirt, a recent rain, and pinesap. It calmed him further and his heart rate continued to drop.

Blinking his eyes open, he glanced through his eyelashes the bright afternoon. He couldn't feel Aragorn and another wave of panic overwhelmed his tired body. What if the creature had dragged Aragorn back into the cave? What if Aragorn had been injured and was lying injured just feet away? Only, no, he could hear the movement, could hear the man pacing back and forth somewhere behind him.

The sun beat against his back, warming him. His already tired body could not fight the pull of sleep and weariness swept over Legolas. It wasn't long before his exhausted body pulled him under.

NOWAYOUT

Aragorn couldn't resist the dwarven curse that slipped out of his lips as he stumbled into the blinding sunlight. After remaining in the dark for who knew who long, the light was a shock and he blinked furiously as he tried not to ram them into any trees.

The creature had to only be seconds behind them. Even as the thought entered his brain something cold curled around his ankle, catching and sending him flying face-first into the dirt. Legolas slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the ground in a heap.

Cursing again, Aragorn spit a mouthful of blood out as he rolled around, sword at the ready. Dirty white linen was wrapped around his foot and more of it was snaking forth out of the hole in the ground. Yanking a knife out of the sheath at his waist, Aragorn rapidly cut himself free from his bonds and the cloth floated to the ground, lifeless.

Scrambling to his feet, Aragorn stepped over Legolas' prone body and stood at the ready. White linin continued slithered out of the narrow opening, but they waved around blindly and Aragorn slowly lowered his knife, panting. The creature could not come out, not into the light. Inching forward, Aragorn prodded one of the white strands. It swung his direction immediately but with a swift flick of his wrist, he cut its connection to its master and it floated to the ground.

Moving quickly, he avoided the waving strands and stood near the entrance of the cave. Bringing the knife down again, and again, he served all any strands that dared to leave the safety of the cave and left them lying limply in the dirt.

At long last, the folds of cloth stopped coming but Aragorn didn't dare slip into the cave to see if it had burned or not. For the moment he would just have to be content with the fact that, if it was still alive, it wasn't trying to kill them.

Wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth that was flowing from a split lip, he sprang to Legolas' side. The elf was curled up in a ball, gasping and seemingly unable to move.

"Legolas?" The elf made no response. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on? Legolas?" Aragorn was beginning to fear that something was drastically wrong with the elf and he reached out, touching the elf's shoulder gently. Legolas recoiled from his touch like he had been stung.

"I—I can't—" Legolas ground out, a hand flying to his chest as the other tried to push Aragorn away. With real concern, Aragorn easily avoided the hand and moved to pull the elf up but Legolas reacted badly. Yanking himself away, he lashed out, catching the man's chest roughly with an elbow.

Aragorn sat back hard on his haunches and rubbed at the spot where the elf had struck him as he stared at his friend. "Legolas?" he asked gently as he approached him more hesitantly. He was met with another flurry of arms and quickly moved back several steps. Sitting back on his haunches, he watched the elf carefully, waiting for any change.

Kneeling there for what seemed to be forever (but in reality could have been no more than a few minutes), he waited until at long last Legolas' strained muscles began to relax. His erratic breathing lessened and his body went limp.

"Legolas?" he called softly, inching forward. The prince didn't answer and Aragorn waited a few more minutes before approaching in. Calling his name again, Aragorn leaned over the prince and laid a hand on his shoulder. It was not thrown off to his relief, and he tipped Legolas over onto his back. The elf's eyes were closed, his breathing even in what could only be sleep.

Blinking in surprise, Aragorn's had jumped to the elf's throat but the pulse was strong and steady. Breathing a sigh of relief, Aragorn washed a hand down his face. Legolas was just resting, thoroughly exhausted after everything he had had to endure.

Aragorn, however, could not rest just yet. They needed to find shelter and Legolas needed caring for. Thranduil would need to be told as soon as possible. The assassin needed taken care of. The list only kept growing and Aragorn eyed the ground enviously. His own body was aching and his eyes itched from lack of sleep and being able to just lay down in the sunlight sounded heavenly.

After sitting there for several minutes and monitoring Legolas' condition, Aragorn forced himself to drink the last of the water and eat some of the food from his pack. Feeling refreshed, he finally stood.

First things first, they need shelter. Glancing back down at Legolas, he paused. The elf was sleeping so peacefully and in the light of the sun, he could finally see just how terrible the prince really looked. Blood was covering his body and shadows lined his eyes, giving him a ghostly appearance.

Bending down, he pressed a kiss to the top of Legolas' head.

"I'll be back," he promised.

NOWAYOUT

Aragorn's first order of business was to see if his mare had left with the assassin in tow. He doubted he would find the faithful steed and sure enough she was long gone. The rest of his supplies were where he had hidden them, undisturbed, and he clung to them gratefully as he moved through the trees.

All too soon night would be upon them and he wanted to be as far away from that cave as possible.

Surprisingly, it only took Aragon a little over 30 minutes to find a suitable camp that would provide shelter, should the elements turn against them, and coverage, should orcs come upon them. The thought of the dark creatures sent Aragorn returning with new urgency back to where he had left Legolas.

The elf hadn't moved and Aragorn felt himself relaxing as he took a moment just to breathe and look at the elf. Part of him was still in disbelief that Legolas was alive and a smile split his face. Wounded, exhausted and who knew what else, but alive.

Inching closer to Legolas, he lightly shook his shoulder, whispering his name. He half hoped that Legolas wouldn't wake up but at his touch, Legolas' eyes flew open and he rolled away, thrusting his hands out towards Aragorn to protect himself.

The man caught his hands. "Hush, it's just me," he murmured, smiling gently as he waited for Legolas' to wake fully.

"Oh. Estel." Legolas slumped back, nursing his wounded shoulder. Aragorn couldn't help but notice how much blood was soaking through the ratted and torn bandages.

"Up on your feet. I have found a safe place for us to set up camp for at least the night. We will discuss other options that we might have in the morning."

Legolas nodded wearily, his chin dipping towards his chest. Aragorn urgently prodded his arm and he jerked his eyes open. After a long second, he accepted Aragorn's hand and was boosted up onto his feet. His knees wilted under his weight and Aragorn caught him, pulling him protectively under his arm.

"It's not far, I promise," Aragorn reassured as Legolas looked around his confusion and tiredness painted on his face in weary lines. Aragorn started them off, stopping only to snatch up a few loose scraps of cloth. He wanted Gandalf to examine them later, or perhaps even Thranduil.

It took them much longer to reach the campsite then it had taken Aragorn to find it as Legolas was forced to stop more than once and sit with his head in-between his knees to keep from passing out. It was with great relief when Aragorn eased his friend to sit against a tree for the last time. Legolas' head flopped back to rest against the rough bark of a tree as he shivered in the bright sunlight.

"How are you holding up?" Aragorn asked, rubbing at his arm. Legolas simply trembled in response, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy before lifting his hand just enough to make a so-so motion.

Aragorn bit at his lower lip in concern. "Be right back."

In record time Aragorn had a fire crackling and water from a nearby stream bubbling cheerfully away in a pot. Legolas was tucked up under Aragorn's sleeping roll while he worked on creating a masterpiece of tea.

He didn't wait for the tea to cool before moving back to Legolas' side. "Here, it will help," he offered, pushing the warm cup into Legolas' cold hand. Legolas clung to it loosely, not moving to drink it.

Lifting his head, he gazed dully up at Aragon. "It won't put me to sleep, will it?" he asked. Aragorn shook his head, noting how the elf's eyes looked dull and lifeless. Reaching out, he encircled the elf's hands gently.

"No, not today. I think you are close enough as it is," he teased. Legolas gave a limp smile and brought the drink to his lips. Aragorn didn't miss the way that he flinched or the tightening around his eyes and found himself wishing that he could simply let the elf sleep. Taking a breath, he motioned towards the prince's shoulder.

"I'm going to have to clean and bandage that shoulder before any more debris find homes there. Also, I have some," Pausing, he turned and pulled his pack closer and shuffled through it till he found the extra set of clothing he had snagged out of the palace for the prince. "fresh clothes for you. I hate to break this to you, but right now you could pass for a filthy ranger yourself."

"Still better looking than you."

Aragorn snorted, turning his back and rearranging his supplies so that Legolas could have some privacy. When he did turn back around, he found the elf huddled against the tree, the blankets pulled up under his chin to ward off the cold. He had wisely left his shirt off so and Aragorn eased the blanket back.

Blowing out a long breath, he grimaced. The wounds looked worse than he remembered and the flesh was swollen, red and angry looking. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, Aragorn began to gently palpate the wound, noting the pus that began to leak out. Legolas tensed under his head and Aragorn glanced at him for approval before he continued.

Legolas held back a stiff groan as Aragorn pressed a wet, hot, rag against the wound, blotting at the bright red blood. "What does my father think happened?" he ground out, hissing sharply.

"Heads are about to go flying at the palace," Aragorn spared a moment to toss the prince a grin. "But he doesn't think you are dead. I don't know what he thinks exactly, but when I stopped off at the palace he was in complete denial that a human had been able to snag you from under his nose and out of his lands. He thought for sure that you had been taken somewhere south, near to Dol-Guldor."

Legolas cut off the rest of the man's speech as he gasped in pain, exclaiming several choice words loudly. Aragorn's fingers had replaced the rag, digging into the wound.

"Hold on, there is something…" Aragorn trailed off, the worry in his face raising a notch. "Anyway, how did Alton managed to, well, ensnare you?" Legolas just shook his head, hands clenching at the tree roots with a death grip as Aragorn continued to apply pressure. Aragorn sat back for a moment, taking in Legolas' pale features.

"Believe it or not, I added painkillers to that tea, but I think that there is another tooth stuck in one of the wounds. I'm going to have to dig it out," he said apologetically. "Are you going to be alright or do you want me to put you to sleep?"

"I'm fine, thank you very much," Legolas insisted, letting out a pent up breathe and hunching protectively over his wound. Aragorn hurriedly dug through his supplies, pulling out a thin-looking instrument. The man bent over his arm, shifting it so that he received the best lighting possible.

"How did he?" Aragorn once again prompted.

Legolas shrugged. "It just—just kind of—happened," he grunted, his muscles' tensing as Aragorn began to prod. He let out a muffled gasp as Aragorn dug further into the wound, opening it wider as he tried to locate the tooth or whatever bit of filth was in his arm. Sweat popped out on Legolas' face and he shifted, trying to ignore the pain. "I think he had some sort of dark spell or something. One moment I was aware and then…" he trailed off biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Aragorn made a sound of agreement as he bent closer enough to the elf that his nose was mere inches away. Legolas took a deep breath, blinking rapidly.

"I—Estel—"

Noting the tone, Aragorn instantly drew back, his bloodied hands held up in the air and away from the wound. Legolas' face was sheet white and if he hadn't been leaning against the tree he would have been flat on the ground. Sweat coated his face and neck and Aragorn waited anxiously to see if the prince would pass out or not.

Finally, after several deep breaths, Legolas seemed to regain control and he nodded jerkily at the man could continue. Aragorn sat there; his hands still held away from his friend.

"It might be best for me to wait or put you to sleep." His tone was serious but Legolas stubbornly shook his head.

"How close were you?" he asked, turning his head away from the mess that was his shoulder.

Aragorn hesitated and Legolas sent him a tired glare. "I was close, I almost had it out."

"Go ahead then. Besides, you've got my blood all over your hands. Might as well finish the job." He smiled weakly at the man but it did nothing to avail the man's concern.

Aragorn paused, giving his friend a long look, before bending over his friend. Legolas tensed. He couldn't stop that grunt that left his lips as Aragorn dug in with the instrument and lights sparked before his eyes, blinding him.

Squeezing them shut, he locked his jaw and refused to move or to cry out. A moment later the pressure was gone and Aragorn was holding up what indeed looked to be a jagged tooth. Droplets of blood were dripping from it and Legolas looked away, his stomach rolling. Aragorn set it aside carefully for later examination and went back to the wound.

"Do you remember much else?" he asked as he worked. Legolas only shook his head, half wondering if he should mention the purple flower and the orange butterfly but they made little sense to him as it was.

Luckily, there was only one tooth embedded in his skin and the rest of the cleaning process went smoothly. Aragorn had debated aloud if he should stitch some of the deeper ones or not, but Legolas' relief he had refrained. Smothering the wounds with a stinging paste that he swore would help ward off infection, Aragorn then bound the wounds tightly with soft, clean cloths.

Legolas looked worse than when he had started off and Aragorn gently forced another cup of tea into him before insisting that he sleep. The sunlight was bright in the clearing as Legolas eased down onto his side, watching Aragorn wash his tools and the small cooking pan.

Despite his weariness, it took Legolas a long to drift off.

Aragorn watched Legolas out of the corner of his eyes from the other side of the clearing, trying to be as quiet as possible. It had taken the elf longer than he expected to fall asleep but at long last he did, albeit fitfully.

Leaning back, Aragorn ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He needed sleep as well. Checking the borders of the small camp for the third time, he lay down across the fire and watched the elf until he himself drifted off to sleep.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story so far. I know that it has been a bit crazy...**

**Here's to hoping that everyone stays healthy!**

Chapter Ten

Aragorn only meant to sleep for a few hours at most, but bright sunlight met him as he blinked his eyes open. Several birds were singing loudly in the trees and he raised his head, looking around. Across from the dead fire, Legolas was still asleep, the blankets twisted and tangled around his body.

Yawning and rubbing at his eyes, Aragorn stretched and took a moment to simply soak in the sun. Never had a night's sleep done so much for him. Legolas, on the other hand, didn't look any better for it. His cheeks were flushed with fever and a thin layer of sweat was lining his face. Softly spoken words were fluttering past his lips as he rolled over, groaning.

Bending over Legolas, Aragorn laid a rough hand over his prince's brow. The frown on his face spoke volumes as Legolas tossed his head, trying to escape. Restocking the fire, Aragorn coxed the flames back into life and put another pot of water on to boil. Breakfast was started next (a mere thin gruel that looked terrible and tasted worse).

Legolas still hadn't woken by the time he had finished and Aragorn crouched next to him, laying a hand on his good shoulder. Tremors shook the elf and heat poured off him, making Aragorn grimace.

"Legolas? Legolas, you need to awake now." He jostled Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas, the sun is shining! Open your eyes and see for yourself." Shaking him a harder, he was rewarded with a soft moan as Legolas batted his hand away weakly. Calling the elf's name louder, he forced back a fond smile the elf groaned.

"GoawayEstel," he mumbled, his hands fluttering blindly for the blankets that had come askew. Aragorn held them forward and shrugged them over his shoulders.

"Come on, open your eyes."

Legolas made a face, rolling away from Aragorn's hands and Aragorn tightened his grip, stopping the elf from rolling over onto his bad shoulder. Sluggishly, Legolas blinked his eyes open just enough to make eye-contact with the man.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question and Legolas nodded shortly. Squeezing his shoulder, he moved back over to the fire to give Legolas some space to wake up fully as he put the finishing touches on breakfast. Pausing to scoop up his blanket, he tossed it at the elf. Legolas grunted as it hit him, but opened his eyes further.

Chuckling, Aragorn scrapped the gruel off the bottom of the pot before adding a few final herbs to the tea. As he seated himself across from Legolas, the elf turned to him with quizzical eyes.

"Where are we?" he rasped, not moving to sit up. Aragorn's felt a flash of fear as he settled the cup and bowl on the ground.

"On the Misty Mountains," he answered and the elf nodded.

"Sorry, everything feels a little jumbled right now." Legolas kneaded his forehead roughly, but Aragorn stopped him with a glare and a firm hand.

"That would be the fever. I fear that infection has taken hold. No surprise there, but still—" Shaking his head in disappointment, he rocked forward. "And that is why you need to eat this and drink something."

Wrapping his arm around Legolas' shoulder, Aragorn assisted Legolas into a sitting position, keeping one hand frim on his back as the elf swayed. Legolas glanced into the bowl and made a face as he saw the unappealing gruel.

"That looks disgusting," he pointed out, pulling the blankets around his shoulder and hunching into them.

"I didn't see you up and making breakfast," Aragorn teased, watching carefully as the elf shivered despite his layers of blankets. "Cold?" Reaching out, he covered Legolas' forehead with his hand and stilled as he tried to gauge just how off Legolas' temperature was. The elf snorted, not pulling away. Aragorn frowned, flipping his hand over to test the heat against the back of his hand.

Legolas' fever was high, but not something that needed to be worried about it. All the same, it shouldn't have been making Legolas shake like he was.

"I've been cold since you woke me up in that cave…," Legolas confessed as he caught the look that was being sent his way. Freeing his hands from the blanket, he grasped the cup of tea with both hands.

"Don't worry, we won't let you remain that way for long," Aragorn insisted, pushing the bowl closer towards his friend. Legolas finished the tea and began to eat so slowly that Aragorn wondered if time itself had slowed. After only half the bowl, Legolas pushed it away looking rather green.

"Your cooking is terrible. There was no flavor there whatsoever."

"I have no answer to that," Aragorn said, his lips twisting upwards ever so slightly. "I guess next time the cooking will be left up to you." Reaching out, he took the proffered bowel and Legolas sagged back in relief. Closing his eyes, he curled back up.

Aragorn watched him for a minute, tapping his finger against the bowl.

"Legolas," he bridged hesitantly. The elf cracked open an eyelid. "How are you feeling? And be honest, this is important."

Legolas blew out a breath, rising his tried eyes to meet Aragorn's. "Weary. In pain. Tried."

"Do you think that you can travel?" Aragorn asked the question seriously, his eyes never leaving Legolas.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it yesterday."

"Yes, but that was when we were trapped in a cave with a monster that was out for our blood. Things have changed slightly."

To Aragorn relief, a small smile split Legolas' face. "Oh, I don't know. If we don't get back you will be faced with a cave and an incredible overprotective king." The smile slid off his face as quickly as it had appeared. "I have no clue how I am going to explain this all to Ada. He's not going to like it, not one bit."

"And thus we are back where we started," Aragon sighed, shaking his head. Legolas paused, opening his mouth before speaking.

"I think it only fair to at least try and get word to Ada. If our positions had been reversed…" he trailed off even as Aragorn was nodded.

"I just fear what he will do to me when he learns that I let you travel in such a condition. I know I would and should box my own ears for letting you do so."

"Now that is a sight that I would like to see." Legolas laughed lightly, slowly easing himself upright once again. To his surprise, Aragorn pushed him back down.

"We won't have to leave for another hour or so. Till then, rest and regain your strength." Aragorn rose, his eyes darting to the trees. Legolas reached out, catching his boot.

"Estel, don't go back near that cave," he warned. "I don't have a good feeling about it, don't go."

"I was thinking about," Aragorn admitted, rubbing at his chin and not for the first time wondering how the elf could read him so easily. "I'm worried that the creature had drifted out last night. If so, we need to find out how to stop it."

"We are in enough of a pickle as it is. Let's not add to it," Legolas advised and Aragorn shook his head, his lips set in a thin line, before nodding.

"You are probably right." Moving instead to the fire, Aragorn began to pack up the supplies he had used and to douse the fire.

NOWAYOUT

The traveling was slow as Legolas hobbled tiredly after Aragorn.

Their first real challenge was a steep hill that sat directly in their path. Aragorn jogged up it with ease and paused, shielding his eyes as she scanned the surrounding area for any other travels or dangers. Assured of their safety, he glanced behind for the elf and felt his stomach lurch. Legolas had stopped halfway up and was bent over with his hands braced against his knees.

A moment later, Legolas' legs lost the ability to function and he tumbled to the ground. Tripping down the hill at an impressive speed, Aragorn slid to a stop next to him.

"Don't overexcite yourself, I'm fine," Legolas ground out as Aragorn gripped his arm painfully tight.

"You look it too."

"I'm so glad that we agreed that I'm fine," Legolas scrunched his eyes close, his breathy heavy. "I'm just dizzy."

"I thought you were fine." Aragorn bent over the elf, carefully peeling back the tunic and making sure that the wound wasn't bleeding. There were a few spots of red against the white bandages but nothing that had him concerned and he tucked the tunic back into place but not before testing his fever. It was higher than before.

"Well," he stated, sitting back down on his heels. "I would guess that your little impromptu meeting with the ground has something do with the fact that you are still ill and I'm crazy for letting be out and traveling."

"Good to know." Legolas didn't get up, plucking at the long grass. "We should go…" Still, he made no move. Aragorn flopped back on the grass, pillowing his head on his arm as he gazed up at the sky. It was a brilliant shade of blue with only a few clouds on the horizon and the sun was beating down warmly upon their shoulder.

"We aren't in a rush," Aragorn said aloud, giving the elf a sideways look.

Legolas snorted. "Ada has to be worried sick…"

Aragorn had to bite his tongue to refrain from pointing out that the elf had hardly been able to handle a hill. He was in no condition to make the journey back down the long road to Mirkwood.

"You—you could just leave me. Just go ahead and tell Ada that I'm alright." The words were soft and Aragorn thought he was hearing things as he turned to gape at the elf. Legolas wasn't looking in his direction. Lines of tiredness were splashed across his face.

"Fat chance of that happening," Aragorn rebuked. Legolas cracked an eyelid to glare at the human. They rested on the hill for a little longer before Legolas insisted that they continue. Aragorn, in turn, demanded that the elf take a little time to eat and drink something.

The afternoon slowly drifted on in much of the same pattern as they made their way back to Mirkwood. Their going was slow and it wasn't infrequent for Legolas to stop for several seconds with a hand pressed against his shoulder or hunched over. At last, when Legolas could go no further, Aragorn forced them to quit for the night.

"No!" Legolas had resolutely declared, pointing out that the sun wasn't even close to setting yet. He wasn't able to stop the way that he was listing to one side and his hand shot out, wrapping around Aragorn's arm in an effort to remain upright.

"You're making me regret letting you travel," Aragorn snapped in return as he pulled the resisting elf off the path. Legolas huffed, turning his head and refusing to meet Aragorn's gaze. His anger did not last as long as his body reminded him of his own weakness. His limbs were heavy and shaking, forcing him to lean heavily on his friend's support.

Once they reached a reasonable stopping point, Aragorn wasted no time in forcing Legolas down onto the ground.

"Stay there, don't move. I'll be right back," he commanded as he went to secure their perimeter and find some water. Legolas sat there, shivering in the warm breeze. His energy was gone, despite whatever he told Aragorn and the headache was back in full force. Digging the heel of his hands into his eyes, he tried to ignore the various aches and pains that were humming at the back of everything he did.

All he wanted was to be warm and not feel like darkness was creeping around his shoulder, waiting to trap in him its embraces. Bowing his head, he stared over at the bright patches of sunlight that decorated the forest floor.

All he wanted was to not be tired. To be back to normal.

"This is stupid," he muttered, bracing a hand against his leg and forcing himself to stand. Instantly the world turned under his feet and he threw out a hand, bracing him against vertigo. Taking deep breathes in through his mouth and nose, he waited for it fades.

Out of the corner of his eye, something orange flickered past. It was an orange butterfly.

Everything that Legolas had just worked for came crashing down as his heart froze and a wave of horror crashed over Legolas. He hadn't escaped it. He hadn't escaped this dreamland and he was still caught in the nightmare that was never going to come to an end. Everything—everything that he had just gone through wasn't real.

Sinking limply back to the ground, he laid there and waited for pain and darkness to come creeping back in. The trees waved merrily over his head, dancing in the light breeze. Somewhere a bird was calling for its mate and the sweet scent of the grass filled his nose.

There was no purple flower, Legolas told himself strictly. It didn't land on a purple flower. Flinging a hand over his eyes, Legolas gave up on anything but waiting for Aragorn to return.

Soon the light tramp of his feet could be heard and Legolas heaved himself into a sitting position. Aragorn was worried enough as it was if this was real, and he certainly didn't need to find him on the ground. His hand twisted in his cloak, unable to shake the anxiety that with Aragorn's reappearance the horrible pain would come back and he would be sucked into a world of darkness.

"Perimeter is safe and sou—" Aragorn started to say, announcing his arrival, but stopped abruptly. "What happened? You're as pale as a ghost!" Aragorn was at his side before Legolas could avoid eye contact.

"Nothing happened," Legolas snorted but even the words felt heavy on his tongue. Aragorn grabbed his chin, tilting his head back and gazing intently into his eyes. His other hand comes up, pressing against the prince's forehead.

"You're in pain."

Legolas didn't have anything to say to that as he clenched his hands together. That did little to ease the tremors that were rolling through his body and Aragorn's frown deepened. Digging through his pack, he pulled out a blanket and wrapped it around Legolas' shoulders.

"Here, this might help and give me a moment and I'll have some food for you." With that, Aragorn was on his feet and rushing to start a fire and finishing setting up camp. Legolas sat there in misery, shivering and feeling general worse by the second.

Aragorn was back a moment later with another blanket.

"My Ada would smack me over the head if he could see what I am doing right now. This is not the proper way to treat a fever," Aragorn murmured with a grin as he helped Legolas shift closer to the fire. The simple movement left Legolas' head reeling and he stuck a hand out of the blankets to steady himself.

"Good thing I'm not him then,' Legolas replied smartly. "As I, one the other hand, appreciate this."

Aragorn didn't smile as the back of his hand rested against the elf's cheek. "I wish that I could believe that this is just the fever."

"You don't think it is?" Legolas watched as Aragorn began to throw his and that into a small cooking pot and splashing in the water. Tea, with hopefully some painkillers because his head was truly killing him.

"I don't know what to think," Aragorn replied honestly. He didn't stop what he was doing but turned a serious look on the elf. "That creature was not wholesome. It reeked of evil and I don't know what it did to you. Elves are creatures of light, but I hope with a few days of rest and care that it will all fade."

"I hope so too, Estel." Fear was etched into the man's face and Legolas felt the cold settle further into his heart. Reaching out, he squeezed Aragorn's knee and offered a small smile. Aragorn smiled back, but his shoulder's remained bowed as if the weight of the world rested atop of them.

A few minutes later a warm cup of tea was pressing into his hands. "At the very least we can take care of such problems as we know of. Drink this and we'll go from there."

After finishing his tea, Legolas slipped into an uneasy sleep and slept until the sky had dimmed. He awoke just long enough to eat what Aragorn had prepared before dozing back off.

Aragorn sat there with a pipe in hand, keeping a silent vigil over his friend for several hours. He didn't like what was happening. He didn't like it at all but he knew what he had to do. That did not mean that he had to like it.

NOWAYOUT

The dawn came with a smell of rain heavy in the air and thick clouds covering the sun. Aragorn paced the length of their camp in tight circles. They needed to get off this mountain and Legolas needed to be back with his people. However much it frustrated him, though, they were just going to have to wait until Legolas could travel again.

His fever had continued to gradually creep higher over the night and Aragorn didn't dare to leave him alone and injured on a mountainside. Bending down over his friend, the healer in him couldn't resist and laid his hand against Legolas' shoulder. Heat was still pouring off him and he frowned, resuming his pacing.

They needed help, but it just wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Legolas slept fitfully until late in the afternoon. When he finally did blink his eyes open it was too the distant rumble of thunder. Glancing around, in confusion he found Aragorn off to the side and humming a distant song with a far off look in his eyes. With a start, the elf realized that the day was almost over.

"Aragorn!" he snapped thickly, attempting to sit up. A wet cloth fell from off his head and landed in his lap. "Why did you not wake me earlier?"

Aragorn returned to his side with impressive ease and he snagged the cloth back. "How are you feeling?" he asked evenly as he refolded the cloth and dunked it in the pot tepid water.

"Fine," Legolas said in irritation, trying to push the man's hands away but hid movements were sluggish and he let out a growl of frustration. Aragorn pushed a hand against his chest, forcing him to recline back down.

"You are not in any condition to travel," he explained quietly, laying the cloth back over the prince's heated brow.

"I can travel."

"No, you can't. I'm vetoing this, Legolas." Aragorn sat back with a firm look on his face. Legolas made a face, but to Aragorn's surprise did not push. That, if anything, convinced Aragorn that he had made the right decision.

Legolas watched the worry deepen in the man's face but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about as thunder let out an unhappy roar in the distance. His head was aching like nothing else and he was putting all his effort into not shivering. Apparently, he wasn't succeeding very well another few logs were added to the fire and then the last of the blankets was added over his body. It had been resting next to the fire and the instant warmth was welcomed.

Aragorn's hand slipped into his and he gave it a tight squeeze. "Maybe tomorrow we will be able to leave."

There was no hope on the elf's face as he drifted back off into a restlessly sleep. Once Aragorn was assured that Legolas was asleep, he carefully pried the still warm blankets off his friend and tossed them off to the side. Legolas muttered in his sleep, shifting to curl in tighter on himself. Soaking the cloth, Aragorn folded it into a neat square and placed it across his brow.

Legolas scrunched up his nose, a hand coming up to bat it away but Aragorn caught it gently, laying it back down at his side. Thunder rumbled threateningly and Aragorn shot a concerned look towards the clouds. Rain, it seemed, was close at hand.

TBC...

**If you feel so inclined, drop a review on your way out and if not, that's chill too! **


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